


"Loving the monsters always ends badly for the humans. It's a rule."

by EWM



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Emotional Whump, F/M, Gen, Other, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM
Summary: Okay so I'm a big MacGyver fan and after some advice, I've decided to post this on here.This post is dedicated to @anguishmacgyver on Tumblr as the fabulous picture below  basically inspired this whole Macgyver as a vampire AU I’ve now got in my head. The below got me going on this.https://anguishmacgyver.tumblr.com/post/628064596194902016/he-plants-a-kiss-on-the-cheek-of-his-love-and
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton & Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

Mac leant against the bars, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his lips and the tips of his fingers. His blond hair flicked over face covering his dark blue eyes. His back was bleeding from Dalton’s knife, he could feel one of his legs was broken. Dalton lay against the opposite wall clutching his shoulder and nursing a black eye as well a cut across one of his legs.

“ I warned you…not come after me…or my father.” Mac said through laboured breaths

“And I told you kid. I got no choice, this has got to end somehow. Your father’s got to be taken down.” Dalton responded equally exhausted.

Dalton forced himself onto his feet and continued on “Look, I get that you hate me, don’t worry I don’t like you much either. But we can work together.”

Mac scoffed not getting up to face him

“The fact is, you hate your father more.” Mac turned around very slowly, still not getting up, he looked up at Dalton, fixing his eyes on him.

Dalton swallowed, but he didn’t falter. “He made you what you are? Child of night? Son of dark, he runs in your veins. You can hear him every second of every night”

“You know nothing about me or him.” Mac responded very quietly

“That’s crap and you know it. I know how sires work, I know you’ve been like this since your childhood, when do your powers start to manifest? Around 10, am I right? I know all the stories about you. How you’re his mirror image in everyway, the brilliant mind, the calculation…”

Mac lost control, he lunged at Jack, ready to rip his throat out. Dalton through his fist out, aiming to punch Mac in the face. Mac saw the fist coming and tried to change tactics to go for Dalton’s wrist, but he misjudged. Dalton’s solid silver skull ring caught him square in the cheek and he recoiled, groaning clutching his cheek.

“Look, Mac, just stop for a second, alright. We can work together.” Dalton said circling him fists at the ready

“Don’t call me that, no one calls me that, not since…” Mac said lunging again at Dalton, but he was ready this time and blocked him again easily.

“Not since when huh? Not since your mom died? Not since your father killed her? ” Dalton jeered seemingly at him. He wanted to bait him, to make him react, if he could just make him react enough, he could get through to him. The two men began to trade blow in earnest, punches and slashes on both sides. Mac’s physical strength and agility gave him an advantage, but the constant jibes from Dalton distracted him again and again. So the soldiers was able to get away from him again and again. He had to kill him, his father had commanded it, he could feel it in his blood, his father’s demand, the pain running through him as more and more time passed without his father’s commands being listened too.

Finally it became too much, Dalton managed to pin Mac to the floor, snarling at him. Somehow Dalton managed to keep Mac to the floor with one hand, he pulled something out from his jacket pocket, a blue and silver stone on a black string and slammed into it Mac’s chest. Mac screamed as blue light flashed from his chest, his whole body contorting upwards. Dalton took advantage and slipped the string over the boy’s head. The blue light was gone. Mac lay there breathing heavily

“What was that?” he said

“Your father’s influence has temporarily gone away, now will you listen to me?” Dalton said settling himself next to the young man

Mac didn’t get up or look at Dalton, he just lay there breathing heavily. “What do you propose?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More from Jack Dalton and his life....

Dalton was not a particular reflective man, he had always been a keep pushing forward kind of a guy, get the job done, survive and keep going. That was all you could hope for in this life. The world Jack inhabited was harsh; full of violence and destruction and difficult decisions and Dalton’s attitude had served him well up to a point. He’d really never made time to think about his actions, the consequences of his decisions. His world was black and white… and red if you counted the blood, there was always blood. So when he found himself sitting next to an exhausted bleeding enemy who basically looked like a 17 year old boy, he paused.

When Webber had gotten a message to him all those months ago, he’d be flattered and a little impressed. He had a reputation to be proud of, he was a hunter and a damn good one, the more of them he took out, the more of them he put in the ground, the better the world was – simple as that. But then came the case of this boy and let’s be honest he really was a boy. He’d met Commander Webber in a small café in Los Angeles, even undercover she cut an impressive figure, every step screamed don’t mess with me. He had been sitting in a booth sipping coffee, minding his own business, leather jacket and cuff, Pink Floyd t-shirt. He looked like an aging roadie, not an unfamiliar sight in LA and that’s what he wanted. Webber was in jeans and a t-shirt, very different to her usual business attire that he had seen in the past. She’s said nothing when saw him, simply sat down and pushed a file towards him. He’d opened it and smiled.

“Been a long time Mattie, I like the jeans and tee, suits you, very smart casual, what’s the matter? CIA dress code slipping?”

“Dalton, cut the crap, I want an answer now. I don’t have too much time.”

Jack had obligingly looked down at the file and frowned.

“You going in for killing kids these days Mattie?”

“That kid as you call him is the heir to James MacGyver. Son of Dark, Son of light”

“Son of what? You know I don’t go in for the voodoo shit…get to the point”

“That’s what he’s known as, his mother was human supposedly, although no one was really knows for certain. He’s meant to be brilliant, a prodigy with the power to see connections in the world that no one else can.”

“And you want him taken out because?”

“Because he’s James MacGyver’s heir, because he’s a dangerous weapon for an..(Mattie faltered slightly) enemy to have. Because he’s a threat, because he’s one of them and has killed thousands already….including women and children. Do you remember The Rising massacre? That was him. Do I need to go on?”

Jack held his hands up, Webber had made her point. Whatever he was, he needed taking out. He flipped through the notes; blonde hair, a set of dark navy eyes, five 11, killed 20 soldiers..alright skip that part. Knowing the odds never really helped.

“How long have I got?”

“Not long, a month maybe, we think James MacGyver is planning something else and we’re sure he” Mattie said pointing at the main photo “will be a part of it. Take out James MacGyver’s heir and and maybe he’ll be distracted longer enough that we can put him down.”

“So the kid’s bait?”

“When do you grow a conscience Dalton? If you’ve not got the stomach for this, I’ll find someone else.”

“Again Mattie, cut the shit, if there was anyone else, you would already be there. You know I’m the best and that I don’t got a conscience, I just like to know what I’m getting into. Helps increase the odds me surviving, you know.”

“Put a silver bullet between his eyes and be done Jack, that’s it. . Do we have an agreement?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Dalton tracks his prey....

“What about my money?”

“50 thousand in cash will be paid on delivery.”

“ I want double that and my day-to-day costs covered. If I’m stirring up a fucking hornet’s nest to satisfy the CIA I want to be well paid for it.” Dalton spat back. Suddenly Commander Matlida Webber looked very tired and sighed. Jack was a little taken back, Webber as a rule didn’t really do emotion.

“Matty what’s this really about? Why is this kid important?”

And then the mask was back again “Do we have an agreement or not?”

Dalton nodded his agreement and grabbed the file and walked out of the café. Over the coming days Jack Dalton started to look into James MacGyver’s heir; Angus. Dalton couldn’t help but snigger every time he thought of the name. It seemed so silly, so human, not threatening at all, more like a hamburger than a life threatening monster. James MacGyver lived in a huge mansion on the outskirts of LA, it was palatial with a large patch of land and trees at the back; good for burying bodies Dalton mused as he drove past it. What was odd about the monstrous looking house was that Dalton could see signs of a garden at the front and on the sides and strange bits of tools strewn about, these were only flashes as Jack couldn’t afford to be seen near that house.

The other stronghold for the MacGyver clan was the legendary Phoenix Institute, once apparently a great place where discoveries were made and human kind leapt forward. Now it had a nasty reputation; people didn’t come out or they were so changed that even their own families didn’t recognise them. Dalton monitored the institute for days, waiting for a glimpse of this mystery kid; finally he saw him. Tall and elegant, James MacGyver’s son was the spitting image of him, in one way. He held himself like his father, reminiscent of a cat with a weird kind of stillness. He had long blond hair slicked back and a set of deep navy eyes. He also wore a suit, a dapper three piece suit, despite the LA heat. Dalton thought he looked like an idiot, it was all so unnecessary, such a performance because frankly this kid for all his elegance, looked an overgrown teen. Dalton waited outside the Phoenix all day for the boy to come out, only at night when he was seemingly the last person in the building did he get his wish.

Dalton got a shock at the change in the kid; the suit was gone, instead Angus was clad in jeans and a green sweater, the slicked back hair was now a mess over his eyes and the eyes even they looked different. There weren’t so navy blue now, not so dark, they were more a bright blue, they kind of sparkled almost. It was all very weird, he now knew for certain that Webber had been screwing with him, there was something about this kid. Something different and Dalton intended to find out what it was. He followed the kid into the LA night, no car, no escort, the boy just walked out, lost in thought periodically running his fingers through his hair. Dalton continued his surveillance at a discrete distance, but the boy didn’t do anything, he just walked around, fading into the background of people on the streets. He could have been an ordinary guy just out for a walk late at night, he continued through the city and onto the outskirts.

As the boy approached his father’s home, his stance shift, the relaxed demeanour went and so did the clothes, an elegant suit re-appeared over him and his long hair was once again perfectly in place. Dalton was struck by the change in him, was it fear ? a desire to please his father? He increased the distance between him and the boy and watched fascinated. He also needed a way into that house at some point. As the huge house approached and a monstrous set of dark gates, Dalton waited. The boy seemingly with a flick of his fingers slipped through the gates unnoticed with no key or passcode. Dalton swore to himself and walked away. He’d have to think about this tomorrow. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus MacGyver meets with his father...

When Angus MacGyver had slipped through the gates of his father’s house he was well aware he was being followed. He was intrigued, the old man seemed very different to the previous agents sent after him. He wanted to see what the old man would do. As he walked up to the house, he stayed as quiet as he could, he hoped he could enter without his father noticing. He wanted peace and quiet tonight and a chance to think, but he didn’t have any luck. As he slipped through the front door…

“You’re late” his father called from the living room. Angus sighed quietly and walked through.

“I was working.” He responded simply.

“Why do you continue there? The Institute will burn soon enough, like the rest of this city soon enough.”

His father’s eyes were not on him. He was absorbed in some project involving metal and plastic and a blood streak across the floor. When Angus made to move forward and look at the experiment, his father stopped him dead.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Angus stood frozen as his eyes took in the rest of the room. The blood streak lead to a woman now dead on the floor in the corner, he grimaced. That his father caught even without looking at him.

“Don’t hide who you are my son. You should be proud. You’re part of a great legacy, my legacy.” James MacGyver eventually got up from his experiment and walked over to his son, still frozen mid step. He tilted his head looking at Angus and released him. The boy relaxed and waited, not moving as he requested.

“Did you get what I requested?” James asked smiling at his son

“I couldn’t. I was followed.” “You were followed? Interesting, Commander Webber is working again I see. She’s recovered from our last encounter. Did you see who it was?”

“No.” “Now don’t lie to son, I don’t like being lied too. What did you see?”

James MacGyver laid his hand on his son’s shoulder, to an outsider it would have been a gesture of affection, but all Angus felt was pain, pain in his shoulder shooting up through his neck and into his head. His eyes flickered from navy to light blue and back again as he tried to focus.

“I simply meant I hadn’t seen him before. He was old for an agent, he seemed like an old man to me.” Angus responded straining under his father’s influence.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it? Remember Angus, you can always be honest with me.” James smiled as he released his son.

“You can go now.” Angus moved to depart when his father responded again “Oh and Angus” James paused... and then slapped Angus hard across the face.

“Don’t be late again.”

“Yes father” Angus simply said, rubbing his cheek. After that he simply walked out, he walked through the beautiful rooms of his father’s house to the back of it, he walked through the kitchens and outside again moving towards the trees, still in his expensive suit. He walked into the woods behind for perhaps ten minutes until he found a small clearing where a second house was, it looked cottage like compared with what he had left behind. But it was generous inside too, he walked inside dumping the jacket of his elegant suit and once again the disappearing trick Jack had witnessed happened again, the dark suit was gone replaced by the jeans and sweater. He was bared footed too. He sat down on a sofa still rubbing his now red cheek and looked out of the front window at the night sky and thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little short chapter this time, but on the plus side woooh! Bozer is here!

The sunlight on his toes woke him up with a start the following morning. He woke up suddenly feeling the pressure of the heat on him and shifted himself away. Although he could cope in the sunlight, in a way that his father never could. He never felt exactly comfortable around it. He stretched and yawned, all terribly human and ordinary. His father would be ashamed of him and Dalton would probably have laughed if he had seen the mighty MacGyver heir, trying to rub sleep out of his eyes.

Angus padded through the house and into the bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror. He always looked very odd, or at least his reflection did. His face and hair always remained slightly out of focus as if somehow the mirror couldn’t quite a get fix on him and his appearance, he looked almost see-through somehow. But his eyes remained, deep navy and piercing. His eyes always frightened people too, they were too dark, like staring into the night without the stars, he was the son of night after all, he thought bitterly. He pushed such thoughts out of his mind.

The mark from last night’s altercation with his father was gone, no trace of the slap. He rubbed his face and grimaced slightly, although the red streak was gone, it still felt strangely painful underneath. Angus swiftly moved through his house, changing his clothes in the blink of an eye, an elegant new suit appeared, his hair was once again pristine. He grabbed the bag he had dropped the night before and left the house. He moved around the side of the house rather than directly through it, he didn’t want to risk waking his father. The peace and quiet he craved last night was finally here. The daylight hours his father slept were the only time his influence was more dormant. Angus didn’t want to risk that changing. He moved through the gardens on the side of the house, looking back and forth, his mother’s gardens, long since overgrown. He’d tried once or twice to try and make things grown there himself, trying to recall his few memories of his mother to help, but it all had failed miserably. He remembered his father laughing at him, saying that he shouldn’t waste his time, that he was his son, not like his mother at all, he didn’t have her gift for making things grow, for making things come alive.

A new elegant car awaited him outside the main gates, the one he had left at the Phoenix Institute would have to be driven back at some stage. Quietly he got in, gesturing to the chauffeur to take him to the Institute, although he didn’t need to. All the staff knew that was where the young heir spent many of his days and nights.

Angus was curious to see if the old man would follow him today, he found him fascinating. He had none of the suaveness of other agents, he seemed greyed round the edges. Angus also wanted to know what the old man wanted; other agents would have tried to shoot him last night. But he didn’t, he just watched him and waited. The Institute came into view and pushed the mysterious agent from Angus’s brain. A young man was there to meet him at the entrance. He waited patiently in a lab coat, jumping back and forth on his feet; Wilt Bozer, the only member of the staff at the Institute who didn’t seem to be afraid or if he did, he hid it well. The minute he stepped out of the car

“Angus! I mean ummm sir I wanted to show you something. The project’s brilliant, all our talk about sentience is really paying off. I think our newest creation is really coming together. Come with me.” Bozer spouted off gesturing for him to follow him. Angus smiled for the first time in days and followed eagerly. Bozer led him down into the labs of the Institute, wooden and grey panelling made for a peculiar contrast.

He led Angus down into a huge underground space that should have had 20 people working in it, but there were only two, three if you counted Angus himself. People had long since stopped coming to the Phoenix for fear of reprisals.

In the centre was a half-built robot in a chair, faceless and ugly. Angus had never really understood Bozer’s obsession with it as it could do very little. Angus folded his arms and waited. Bozer very carefully moved Angus into the centre of the room to watch. He moved next to the robot placing his hands together and murmured a few words to himself. Green light emerged from Bozer’s hands and the robot leapt into life.

“ Hello Angus MacGyver, I am glad that I am finally meeting you. I think it will be very valuable to my programming.” Angus started, he had never seen the robot before, certainly never seen it on, how did know him? Bozer sensing his confusion grinned.

“I gave him a memory of mine, the first time I met you and he used it to recognise you. It was a memorium spell combined with computer code.” Bozer grinned, Angus moved towards the robot fascinated staring at him. The robot did not stare back. Bozer feeling he wasn’t getting enough of a reaction, continued on.

“I mean, isn’t this what you’ve always talked about? Combining magic and technology, the science and the supernatural to help the world…ohhhh.” This little outburst did not get the reaction he was hoping for. Angus suddenly stiffened, furious. He pushed the robot hard, sending it flying to the back of the room, a large section of it smashed to the floor. The other worker, a man with a beard jumped out of the way to avoid the flying parts.

“Put that away. It’s taking up too much of your time. Get back to the work my father asked of you now.” Angus snapped, he turned on his heel and walked out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Mac finally meet, does it all go wonderfully? Nope not even a little bit.

Dalton tracked Angus for around 10 days, before he decided to make his move. He found out through one of his contacts; a witch of dubious reputation named Patricia Thornton that the MacGyvers were having one of their big money shindigs, essentially the elite of LA came to the MacGyver mansion or whatever other building they hired out to get money, give money, totally ignore the vampire issue and make sure Angus and his father didn’t kill them. Patricia managed to get him in as part of the waiting staff, James always splashed out on these events hiring from the top to the bottom of LA so there would be hundreds of people swarming around.

Jack had decided this would be the best opportunity to kill the kid, too many people, too much confusion, one bullet in the head and he could slip out the back door, collect his money and be done with this whole mess. The whole job stank to him, watching Angus, he seemed so unlike his father, quiet, reserved, almost geeky, judging by the number of hours he spent at the Phoenix Institute, the way he reacted around his colleagues. He was aloof sure, he was a privileged Los Angeles brat, but a violent killer? Dalton pushed such thoughts from his head. He had been hired to do a job and he had no interest in having Matty Webber as an enemy.

The night came, the party was to be held at the Chateau Marmont, expensive and isolated. It was going to make killing Angus more complicated, but not undoable. He’d have to be in and out as quickly as possible, maybe steal one of the cars? Or get up into the hills, either way he’d have to be very fast. He was sent in the back way like most of the catering staff, he passed through a vast kitchen. Loud and angry chefs were screaming orders at their underlings as hundreds of little dishes of with delicate pockets of tomato or tuna were placed on them. Huge vats of stews were being mixed, large roasts were being prepared with potatoes and spiced vegetables, the beginnings of puddings were being made. Some freezing under chef was putting the final touches to home-made rocky road ice-cream. If the whole situation hadn’t been a mess, Dalton would have gleefully pigged out on everything as well all the beer he could find. One aspect that did disturb him was the wine section he saw, a lot of it was red wine, but it was the kind of red, too bright and thick. There were hundreds of glasses at the ready with bottles already open, they air stank of blood, Dalton beat a haste retreat when he realised. He thought that violent vomiting might just blow his cover. 

Guests began to arrive, LA’s rich, famous and infamous turned up in the all their finery, jewels, watches and revealing dresses abounded as well a series of old white men in too tight tuxedos smiling and makes eyes at anything that moved. Dalton scanned the room, it was a strange mix of vampires, witches and occultists as well a few regular politicians and scientists thrown in. At the swirling centre of it all was James MacGyver and Angus, smiling and greeting guests. Dalton was fascinated to see the old MacGyver out and about, stylish in black with greying hair (an odd trait on a vampire, a hint at how old the sire really was), Angus stood next to him in deep navy, his blond hair, slicked back and pristine. Dalton thought sadly how much effort the kid must be putting to keep up this appearance to his old man. Jack kept his distance from the kid for the first part of the evening, monitoring, providing drinks, possibly being the worst waiter known to mankind, but fading into the background without too much trouble none the less. He had to get this boy alone.

Finally the opportunity came, James presented his son with a beautiful woman, girl really. She was thin with a mass of long blond hair and large dark eyes. She had a kind of dazed look about her. Dalton couldn’t hear what was said, but he made an educated guess, by the kid’s shocked expression. But he smiled at his father and wrapped his arm around the girl and led her out. Dalton speedily followed, Angus led him on a merry little dance through the pool area and gardens of the Marmont to one of the private bungalows at the back into one of the front rooms. There was a huge white sofa and a window looking out on the night. 

Angus never let go of the woman, he was murmuring things in her ear as they walked, she was dazed, but a soft smile appeared on her face. He guided gently through the foliage away from the noise of the party and into the bungalow, his father’s words murmuring in his ear.

“You’ve done your duty tonight my boy, take some pleasure and enjoy the rest of the night. Don’t come back and until your done.”

Angus shuddered slightly at the thought, it wasn’t the act that bothered him exactly, he loved hunting. He had been trained to hunt since childhood and he was good at it, he saw ways to trap people or creatures and hunt them that not even his father thought of. He revelled in night hunting and taking down an enemy. But this, this was something else, he wanted a worthy adversary, not some vulnerable creature who barely knew where she was, let alone was about to happen to her. When they got to one of the bungalows, he settled the dazed young woman onto the sofa, his murmurings continued in her ear, he wouldn’t make her suffer, the way he’d seen his father do it to so many other victims. He’d make sure she didn’t suffer at all…

Dalton watched all this fascinated, finally he saw a bit of the animal in the kid. This was a hunter alright, taking down his pray gently and quietly. The bungalow had a big front window and a large set of trees that nestled just to the side of it. Jack settled himself down into it, gun at the ready. He had time this just right, he saw Angus go in for the neck and raised his gun and was about to fire when he saw something remarkable.

Angus at the last moment stopped and turned away and shut his eyes and opened them again, they turned that remarkable pale blue once again, only for a second or two and then they were back to dark navy. He spoke to the girl once again, she woke up with a horrified shock and leapt to her feet. His voice was raised and the girl ran away in tears racing past the bushes, past Jack into the night. At this point, Jack did something that some would call incredibly stupid, he removed himself from his hiding place and walked slowly towards the bungalow, gun at the ready, Angus was still sitting on the sofa rubbing his eyes.

“I hope you enjoyed that, although I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting to have an audience.” Angus responded still not looking up at him. Dalton continued to stare at him, gun raised at his head. Had Jack fired his gun at this point, his life would have probably been much simpler or Angus might have ripped his throat out.

“Why did you let her ago?” Dalton asked simply

“Why do you care?”

“Just answer the question, kid. I ain’t got all day.” At this point Angus stood up, his navy eyes filled with rage.

“Who I hunt and why I hunt are no business of yours. Why have you been following me for the last 10 days and why shouldn’t I kill you right here, right now. As you’ve seen, I’ve not eaten and frankly I’m hungry.” Angus responded

“Well kid, I….” Dalton did not get an opportunity to finish his sentence, as he was speaking he saw a figure behind the boy from a glass wall on the other side of the building raise his own gun and aim it at the back of Angus’s head. Dalton shot him without hesitation. Angus whipped his head and shoulder back to avoid Dalton’s bullet, but registered the other attack, he also registered Dalton drag him to the floor and flip the sofa up to give them a shield. Then the bullets, all of them silver started raining down in earnest all around them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do Mac and Jack survive this assault of silver against them? Read the below and find out? We get to see MacGyver do his first bit of MacGyvering in this chapter. Happy reading and comments and feedback welcome! Thank you again to @anguishmacgyver on tumblr , without her marvellous picture I would never entered this bonkers universe.

The noise was horrific; their unseen and still unknown enemy seemingly had endless ammunition, broken glass rained down on them, although the sofa they hid behind remained remarkably intact.

“Friends of yours?” Angus yelled as he held his arms up to protect himself from the flying debris

“Of mine? Seriously? As a rule, my friends” Dalton fired at the enemy “ don’t” again “try” again “to” again “kill” and again “me”.

“And frankly they’ve got better aim than this.” Jack responded as he pulled another mag from his pocket.

“Noted” Angus responded as he snuck his head around the sofa at speed.

“Alright, so there’s a dozen, all carrying rifles, probably with 20 rounds each in them. That’s not discounting extra clips they might have hidden away.”

“How can you see all that? You’ve got no idea what weapons they’ve got! ”

“Hunter’s eyes” Angus said grinning at the fuming Jack. 

“Alright smart ass, assuming you’re right, I’m not saying you are. How exactly are we suppose to stop them and you know not die. I don’t have enough ammo to take out however many of them there are and last time I checked, you guys don’t do well against silver either.”

“That’s correct, but maybe, maybe I can even the odds.” Angus’s eyes darted around the room, he felt in his pockets and grabbed a silk handkerchief.

“I’m going to need a bullet from your gun.”

“What, why? Won’t it burn your hand off?”

“What no? I’m not going to directly handle it anyway. Do you want to survive this?”

Jack groaned as the firing continued all around them, reluctantly he pulled a bullet out of his already depleted mag and handed it to Angus, Angus accepted it in the grey silk. He looked around again and reached towards the small coffee table that was now broken in pieces. He grabbed one of the pens and the notepad that lay there in the mess on the ground.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Dalton responded, firing again at their attackers.

“Hopefully save our lives, so we can walk out of here tonight.”

Dalton watched fascinated as he pushed another mag into his gun. Angus pulled the pen apart into pieces; lid, casing and ink holder and laid it on the paper, he then pulled the bullet apart, careful not to touch it with the tips of his fingers. He pulled the casing off and poured a small section of the silver nitrate that was part of nearly every silver bullet that most hunters carried into the hollow pen.

“Hey kid, should you be doing that? Won’t that stuff kill us??” Dalton responded gesturing at Angus.

The ‘kid’ ignored Dalton, he ripped several pieces of paper out of the notebook and folded them into sharp points, he gently pushed them in and round the pen. The precision Angus had fascinated Jack, the boy’s mind was amazing and kinda crazy. He did all this while glass and silver dust rained down on them, never losing his focus once. Angus then pulled up his jacket cuff up and bit into his own wrist, the first real hint that Dalton had seen of his teeth, Angus’s wrist began to bleed profusely, he held it over pen, a few drops went inside.

Catching Jack’s disgusted expression, he said:

“Our blood is highly explosive, it’ll increase it’s firepower. Aren’t you a hunter? How do you not know that?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, but simply responded

“What are we suppose to do, what is that?” gesturing to the pen. Angus speedily pulled his jacket back over his now bleeding wrist and pushed a cap onto the newly reformed ‘pen’.

“I’m going to run and throw this, I go left you, you go right?” He held the pen up, much to Jack’s amazement the pen began to glow faintly.

“You made a bomb?”

“On three?” Jack shrugged his shoulders, there were worse ways to go.

Suddenly Angus made a leap out from the side of the now semi shredded couch, Jack leapt the other way, firing every last bullet he had into the enemy. There was an almighty explosion, sections of the roof of the bungalow came down, furniture crashed around them and there was smoke everywhere. Angus coughed violently as he inhaled bits of silver. But the firing had stopped. Tentatively the two men got up and begun dusting themselves off, Dalton stretched out his aching arms. He put the gun away and pulled out a silver knife ready to attack again if needs be. Angus pulled a piece of wood from his hair, still coughing, some of the silver from the explosion had scraped across his cheek and there was now a thin cut there. He flinched slightly, but was otherwise unhurt. Dalton gestured towards the source of the explosion and Angus nodded.

Silently the two men moved towards the back of the house . As they moved closer, they saw the bodies and a peculiar shimmer to the air, not silver, but a strange kind of golden, yellow sparkle as if a kind of chemical was present. Angus sniffed

“Caesalpinia crista, it must have shielded the attackers long enough so they could sneak up.”

“You mean squirrel’s claws? That stuff the addicts sniff on the strip to forget their problems and fucked up lives?”

“Caesalpinia crista is it’s correct name.”

“Squirrel’s claws is how I know it, I didn’t think it was powerful enough for something like this.”

“It’s not, it’s been enhanced by a witch or someone else or something else.”

Dalton was quiet, he did not like where this was going. Angus and he continued to explore the back area of the bungalow, there were bodies everywhere. More than the dozen that Angus had seen, all heavily armed, this was a professional job, looking at the arsenal they each seemed to be carrying, he was starting to have a good idea of who had come after him or them…whatever….Thinking of himself and the kid together as some kind of messed up duo was something his brain couldn’t cope with at that moment. He fumed internally but said nothing to the boy as he explored. Then came a series of groans, he realised that several of them were still alive, badly hurt. They both raced in the direction of the first noise, he saw a bloodied hand in the air. He pulled his knife ready to interrogate the man but was distracted by Angus on his left.

The kid went up to a second man who was also alive and moaning loudly. Angus stared at him for a second, then he stamped on his neck, snapping it. He went to another man who was murmuring and coughing blood into the grass and did it again. The fourth he found, he knelt down and looked at him, fascinated. This time, he lifted the man up to him, bringing his head up to him, murmuring in his ear. He bit into his neck, the blood streaming out, the man’s body jerked around and then was still. Dalton’s body and brain eventually clicked into gear as he raced over to him, he pulled the boy up

“What the fuck are you doing?” He said grabbing his shoulders. Angus’s face was covered in blood, the boy spat the blood he had been carrying in his mouth on the ground and wiped his mouth with his jacket.

“Why do you care? These men are nothing to you.” He looked at Dalton, faintly confused.

“Because they’re human, they don’t deserve to be down like…like…” Jack faltered, it had been a long night.

“Like animals? Believe it or not, I’m putting them out their misery.”

“What? That’s crap, you’re just like your father. You’re doing this for...for kicks…”

“I’m not. This” Angus gestured to the bodies around them “ is a fate far kinder, than what my father would have done.”

At that point, the man Jack had initially seen with the bloodied hand managed to get up and tried to run away. Angus spotted him and raced towards him, before Jack could blink, Angus was behind the man and snapped his neck.

“This has been a peculiar night sir. After all this and I still don’t know your name, I’m sure you know mine.” Angus said dropping the body to the floor and looked expectantly at him.

“It’s Jack Dalton…”

“Well Mr Dalton, you save my life tonight, twice.” Dalton snorted at this, this night had certainly had not gone as planned.

“Let me offer you two pieces of advices in return, I suggest you depart quickly as I can hear my father coming and his guards, there’s a private passage through the trees down to the carpark and out of the hotel. The woman you saw earlier will have got out the same way.” Angus paused “And secondly Mr Dalton….don’t come after us again; it won’t end well for you.”

“This won’t end tonight you know that right? People are coming for him...and for you. Also no one calls me Mr Dalton, it’s Dalton or Jack.”

“Then I bid you goodnight…or perhaps I should say good morning, Dalton.” With that Angus walked away to head off his approaching father and come up with a semblance of an explanation. Jack who knew his luck was at best running low, made a speedy exit in the opposite direction. He followed the path Angus had suggested and managed to find his way out of the Chateau surprisingly fast, he couldn’t believe the kid had been telling the truth. He decided against stealing a car to get home, exhausted as he was. Instead he walked for what felt like hours to get back to central LA. He pushed himself into the nearest liquor store he could find and bought a huge case of beer. The clerk’s eyes widened at the blood splatters on Jack’s waiter uniform but said nothing. He dragged it back to his shitty little LA apartment that he rented for the job. By the time he got in, the sun was coming up.

He began to fume as he cracked open his first, second and third beer. Explosive blood? What the fuck? Who was the kid? More importantly what was he? That was not a common trait to those fucking demons, no matter what the boy said. He’d been fed some kind of line, he wondered if James knew what he had? He must do, why else would he feed his son the lie about it being common then? And how had the boy put that bomb together so fast? Out of god damn pen? Dalton was amazed at the boy’s skill, his precision under fire. One thing was for sure, Webber had screwed him, this was no simple job. There was a lot more going on here, a lot more at stake. God what the hell was he supposed to do now? The kid even knew his real name. Why had he told him his real name??? Why? Dalton even a slightly inebriated state knew why, because some part of him trusted the kid, against all his instincts. He wanted to understand him, so he’d offered up his real name as a weird kind of talisman. At one point in the morning, he got a flash of his pain in his head…like he could here the kid screaming his name…calling him….It was stupid, he didn’t mean anything to him. Dalton drank more and more during the day, the beer did it’s work, and he passed out on the sofa, still dressed in his bloodied waiter’s uniform. He woke up again when it had gone dark, his head now pounding. He rubbed his tired eyes, he needed a shower and something to eat. But first he made a phone call, he did not call Webber, despite how much he wanted to do and scream and curse her for getting him into this horrific mess. She would simply stonewall him and probably wouldn’t have the answers he wanted anyway. Instead he called once again a witch of dubious reputation named Patricia Thornton. She picked up immediately

“I think we need to meet. You’re not going to believe what happened last night.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jack escapes the Chateau, Angus is left to deal with his father. We get more of a window into their relationship in all it's messed up glory and the first hint of Mac's mother. There is much whump emotional and physical and yes this got very weird again...comments and feedback welcome

While Jack had escaped through the bushes Mac had attempted to deal with his father as best he could. When James MacGyver found a dozen dead soldiers amongst a smoking mess and his son at the centre of it, he was filled with rage. He began muttering orders and his half his own security fanned out on the carnage filled scene to look for more intruders. The rest went back inside and got the guests out at speed. There was a whole lot of confusion, the Caesalpinia crista had done its work, everyone had forgotten about the MacGyver heir, including his own father until the explosion had dissipated the drug at least in part. The soldiers gave very little explanation, only that the party for unseen reasons had to end early. The fine rich folks of LA didn’t argue with the men with guns, nor did the supernatural creatures there. The crowds departed fast; a sea of sports cars shot out of the driveways of the Chateau as they all ran.

James strode forward through the bodies to get a closer look at his son, his hair was a mess, his pristine suit was covered in dust. There was a cut across his face, as his eyes travelled down his son, he picked up on the still bleeding wrist. James grabbed it, pressing hard down on the cut, making Angus grimace.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t have any choice, there were too many, they all had silver, I evened the odds and came out alive. Why do you care? You would have done the same thing in my place or something similar”

‘No I wouldn’t. How many times have I told you Angus, you’re important, you’re important to me and my legacy. You shouldn’t…” James stopped short. Angus raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.

Instead James took his son in his arms and held him close, Angus collapsed with relief on his father. He was exhausted and hungry, his father didn’t seem especially angry, just concerned, just as a father should be. He didn’t have to tell him anything else, just shut his eyes and breath. His father would fix this as he always did.

“I’m taking my son home, I want this mess cleaned up by the time I return tomorrow night.” James called to the guards, they all nodded, they were very familiar with cleaning up the messes of the MacGyver clan. James led his son away, his arm still around him, Angus nestled into his father, cherishing the affection, not something he got very often these days. James listened to his son’s breathing in and out, part of him was relieved nothing had happened to him. His son was fine, his boy was not hurt, no one had seen anything and if they had Angus had taken care of it. He recognised his son’s handiwork on the bodies, he’d done what he was suppose too, even if it was frustrating to not have anyone to question. As they walked, James registered his son’s emotions, relief, calm, exhausted and…. hunger….How could that be? He’d sent that beautiful girl for him, he should be…

James sighed, he’d been so relieved and now, his anger was coming back again. Angus who had half been falling asleep on his father’s shoulder, witched as he registered his change in his father’s mood.

“Angus, be calm…it’s been a long night….try to sleep.” James murmured in his son’s ear. He wanted to yell at his son for his foolishness and his own weakness, but he realised that wouldn’t help, he needed to know exactly what happened tonight. If his son hadn’t mentioned the girl, what else wasn’t he telling him. James manoeuvred his son into the one remaining car still at the Chateau, continuing to say quiet things in his ear, the driver drove them back to their estate. By the time they reached the house, Angus was basically sleep walking and lucid, it was only his father’s guiding hand that kept him murmuring and when they arrived on his feet. The driver dropped them at the entrance to the house, James gently pulled his son out of the car, still holding him carefully. The driver thought, how affectionate for a father too look after his son like that and then departed.

James opened the gates to the house and walked slowly with Angus

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disappoint you…I didn’t want you to be angry with me.” Angus murmured half asleep

James was surprised and faintly amused his son was sayining anything, he should really be absolutely out now.

“No disappointment…you need to sleep…my boy…” James send, hugging his son.

“I know you’re disappointed in me….when I don’t do what you ask…I know when you look…you look at me…you see her…you want her there with you…instead of…instead of me.”

James MacGyver felt a stab of pain in his chest, he did not like thinking of his wife, remembering her. The pain made him angry and some part of wanted to weep because the world was still so empty without her, even after all these years. He gripped his son tightly, Angus groaned as he felt pain shoot through his shoulder and arm, but he still did not wake. Eventually they made it up to the house, James kept a few servants in his house, they were all still awake. Standing quietly in the huge hall, all dozy eyed, similar to Angus, there were three men and women dressed in black. He gestured for one of the young men to follow him. He walked his son up one of the huge white and black staircases that dominated the hall to the second floor and down a corridor. The young man who walked behind them switched on a few lights as they went so the darkened house had a faint glow. James pushed opened one of the grey doors in the corridor and it revealed a vast suite of rooms, one of many in the house. The whole room was decorated in black, white and grey, pristinely clean as if no one really spent much time there. This was Angus MacGyver’s room in his father’s house “not that garbage heap” on the edge of the grounds that Angus insisted on staying in. A huge white and black bed dominated the centre of the room. It was flanked by grey curtains, if the curtains were allowed to be open, it might have been a beautiful room filled with light. But James never permitted that, sunlight was not what his son needed, he belonged in the night with him, that was where his path lay.

He placed his son on the bed still up right, his eyes opening and closing. James pulled on his son’s shoes and removed his jacket and threw it onto the couch at the end as if to finally push Angus to sleep. Instead he pulled a chair over to the bed at sat directly opposite his boy. He put his hands onto his shoulders and gripped him tight, Angus started to shudder as pain went through his arms;

“Now Angus, tell me exactly what happened tonight.”

“I was attacked, I took care of it. I did what I was suppose to do, they’re all dead…they’re all dead so you couldn’t…wouldn’t question them.”

“Angus I want the truth….Start from the beginning, the girl I gave you. What did you do with her??”

Angus’s hands gripped the sides of the bed, he opened his eyes, keeping them on the floor, they started to flash between pale blue and navy, he felt his father’s influence, all through him, in every part of him.

“IIII I let her go...I didn’t touch her…she was innocent, useless. The idea of her was disgusting to me…she didn’t belong there. I hate hunting things that are so….so weak. I want to hunt…real opponents…. I made her depart, she ran away screaming in horror when she realised what I was…when she realised what happened.” Angus groaned, he tried to stop talking…., he had meant to keep his mouth shut, to say nothing.

“What happened after that? Come on, remember no lying. I hate lying.” His father prompted

“There was a man…” Angus stopped again, desperately try to gain control of himself again. It was like horrific dream he couldn’t wake from.

James moved his hands over and placed his hands on his sons. He didn’t put any pressure on them. He just waited

“And….”

“He was the one hunting me…he’d be following me for days. He He…he wanted to know why I’d let her go. Why hadn’t killed her, why hadn’t left her body there like I was suppose too. Then…” Angus groaned again and started to fall backwards on the bed. James grabbed him and knelt closer and touched his forehead to his son’s.

“Stay with me Angus…what happened then? I need to know everything. Did he hurt you? Did he open your wrist? Did he see?” James said urgently

Angus’s head was touching his fathers, his face a few inches away from him. His eyes opened up again, his eyes glowed a bright blue as the memory flashed in his head.

“His gun was pointed at me, he was going to a bullet in me…but but but.” He wobbled again.

“But what Angus, but what?? What did you do?” James said, his fury evident on his face.

“I didn’t do anything…he shot them, the soldiers they came from behind. He took them out first, he dragged me behind one of the sofas…he…he saved my life. If he hadn’t shot them…I might not have survived. I don’t know why he saved my life…I don’t mean anything to him..” 

“Then what happened Angus, come on where did the explosion come from? What did you do??” James was furious, what control he had was slipping, he was still forehead to forehead with Angus. His hands gripping his son’s face. Angus was sweating, the cut on his face which had started to disappear was bleeding again, his wrist started to bleed more, staining the grey bed spread under his hands.

“I made a bullet dart…I took one of the bullets and a pen from the debris…the silver, it’s highly reactive…and a compression charge….and my blood. You always told me how powerful it was, that fire burns through me, through all vampires….It gave us enough power to defeat them. And the man, he trusted me, he fired every bullet he had.”

“How could you Angus? I told you, that power, that fire is sacred, you don’t show it to anyone. No one outside this family, you know our plans…you know how important you are to me, to my legacy, to this city.”

“I’m sorry, II, it kept us alive. I couldn’t see another way out and I couldn’t let him die after he saved my life. I just couldn’t….”

James finally let go of his son, but left his son frozen in a position, he paced around the room, eyeing the young servant they had brought with him, he came back to his son.

“And the soldiers?”

‘I made sure they were dead, I knew you would come and I knew you would do things to them…you’d do horrible things to them, to make them answer your questions. If they were all dead, you couldn’t and I was so hungry by then…”

James snorted at this confession.

“There was a drug in the air… Caesalpinia crista…it makes you forget…it makes you remember. It crumbles your mind…that’s how the soldiers came…” Angus took a deep breath. That was it…he’d told him almost everything, surely his father had to stop now. You swayed on the bed, willing his body to drop, he so wanted to sleep and get out of this nightmare. He wanted the blackness of sleep to come. But his father wouldn’t let him.

“I want a name Angus…who was he this man who saved you? He must have told you.”

“Father…please…he’s not important, he saved my life. He protected me, like you would. He protected me…”

“Now Angus…I mean it.”

The pain intensified in Angus’s his head, his eyes felt like they were burning. In all the pain Angus thought his mother, she was his escape in these moments sometimes… She was smiling at him, she moved closer to him as if to tell him some secret. She had eyes like his, they were blue. Except they weren’t of course, his were dark navy…hers had been light...always light. He felt his own eyes them being forced open, he stared at his father, directly in his eyes. His father looked horrified. What Angus did not realise was that at this moment was his own eyes were glowing a fierce bright blue, almost white, they were sparkling. That what was facing his father.

“I want an answer…”

“He warned me…he said they were coming for you and me. He wanted to protect me, even after everything. He was trying too….I told him to stay from us…”

“Angus…a name now.”

Angus felt like his head was going to explode, he put his hands up to cover his face, but retreated…everything was burning in him…the cut on his wrist was bleeding more profusely now. His father was in his head and outside…demanding an answer…he had to hold out…he had too…he…he couldn’t….

“Jack!” Angus screamed “he called himself Jack!”

“Enough!” James shouted back and then it was suddenly over. Angus dropped his head back, still gripping the sides of the bed, his head lulling again, sleep calling him again. His eyes were once again navy blue and his lids were dropping.

“We’re not quite finished.” James said quietly. He gestured for the servant to come forward, he pointed to the seat he had been sitting in, the servant obeyed, dead eyed.

“No kneel next to him.” James said, the servant pushed the plush pail grey chair out of the way and knelt before Angus

“Angus you need to eat…you’re exhausted….” James said quietly

“I don’t…I’ll hunt after I sleep…”

“You do…do as your father….” James didn’t need to finish his sentence. Angus’s own instincts took over, he felt so hungry, starving after the night. He could sense daybreak coming and wanted so badly to sleep. He could smell him, he grabbed the young man by his hair and buried his teeth into his neck, Angus’s exhaustion made him sloppy, the blood went everywhere seeping into the beautiful carpet and furniture. Angus didn’t stop, his predator’s nature took over, burying his teeth deeper and deeper into the man’s neck until he felt bone. The cut on his face heeled up, the injury on his wrist closed. The young man writhed and twitched under Angus until he stopped. Angus dropped the body onto the floor, blood dripped from his lips, his eyes were glazed over, breathing heavily.

“My son…you are whole again. Now it’s time to sleep…it’s been a long night. The sun is coming up and we both need to rest” James said smiling letting his son go with a gentle wave of his hand.

Wordlessly Angus got up, blood still on his lips, still in his black waist coast from the party and fell onto the bed exhausted and finally asleep. James looked at his son and the body dripping into his carpet, he should remove it now, but Angus needed to be reminded of who he was. The body would wait until morning, James dragged the body of the young man round the bed and on the couch that was placed at the end of it. The blood and sludge from the body stained the elegant white throw pillows there, James thought. He walked towards door, at the handle he paused, he glanced at the back of his now sleeping son and then he opened the door and left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac deals with the aftermath of the killing and his father

When sun set later that day, Angus woke up with a groan, his head felt like it was on fire and he stank, slowly he opened his eyes and started to move around. He was in an unfamiliar bed; he was in his room in his father’s house! How had he ended up there? He would never have chosen to stay there. His father must have brought him here after last night, what had happened exactly? Had he collapsed? Was he hurt? He had blood all over him ,it was dry now, but it covered his mouth, his chest, even one of his arms. He pulled himself off the bed, he was still in his suit from the night before, his whole body smelled of blood, but it wasn’t his or Jack’s?.

Then he turned around and then he the body that James had so carefully placed there, the night before. Angus walked around taking in the blood stains on the bed and on the carpet and the young man on the couch, when he saw his neck he wanted to vomit. Half of it was torn away, the spots of white showed the bone of the young man’s spine that Angus had managed to touch the night before. Seeing the mess, flashes of the night before to came back to him, the hunger, the blood, the man hadn’t even fought? Maybe the drug had done something to him? Normally he had far better control, he could see his father there watching him as he buried himself in the man’s neck. What would his father say? Would he be angry? Surely not? He’d seen him do it? Angus shook his head as he tried to remember more of what had happened to him, what had he told his father? The pain in his head intensified, had he told him about Dalton? He’d tried so hard not too. He didn’t want to lie to his father, but Jack he had wanted to keep to himself, there seemed no point in killing Jack. Jack had saved his life; it wasn’t fair or honourable at least not to Angus. He could remember his father yelling at him, pain shooting down his arm and his eyes, it had felt like there was fire in his eyes last night and there was something else too. But he couldn’t quite see it, a face, a figure telling him a secret, murmuring in his ear. Angus tried to recall more, but couldn’t.

He looked at the body of the young man, he didn’t even know his name, the black uniform suggested he was one of his father’s servants. God, why had he done it? He backed away from the body and turned to find the en suite that Angus knew was attached to this bedroom. He peeled off his blood-stained clothes leaving a trail behind on the floor and walked towards the bathroom, the water in the shower washed away the blood and the stench and the steam made him feel a little bit better. He looked at his wrist from the previous night, it had healed but a faint raised white line remained, bemused he wondered why it hadn’t healed away. He came out of the shower and looked at the body again and shuddered.

He’d have to speak to his father, slowly he dressed himself in the kind of clothes his father approved of. Smart respectable, an elegant suit, grey as opposed to black. He walked quietly through the house making sure not to wake any staff, he descended the stairs into the main hall, he moved into the back kitchen that was so rarely used and found the back stairs he wanted. His father’s basement, he’d spent so much of his childhood down there, that’s where his father built things, made them spark, that’s where his mother had let him run up and down, but that was all long gone now. He took a deep breath before he descended the stairs, he could already feel his father’s influence before he even went inside.

“Son, come down the stairs, we need to talk.” James’s voice called. Slowly Mac descended the stairs, James sat a huge table surrounded by pieces of metal and tools, his back to his son.

Angus tried to start speaking, but his father turned around and held up his hand. Mac was silenced immediately

“We need to talk about last night, you kept things from me. You didn’t tell me what happened, you refused that girl and now an innocent young man is dead on your couch because of it.”

Angus felt a pit of guilt in his stomach, he tried to speak but his father continued on.

“I’ve always told you to embrace your nature, but you also need to know when to stop. I tried to stop you last night, but you lost total control, even I couldn’t pull you off him.”

Angus staggered slightly, so he had lost control last night. That young man, he’d ripped him apart, even his father was disgusted with his behaviour. He’d killed an innocent because? Because he’d been hungry, he’d been starving and stressed and all because he hadn’t followed his father’s advice and gone for that girl when he was supposed too. Angus hung his head in shame, his navy eyes blinking rapidly. He was horrified, after everything he’d said to Dalton last night. Dalton would have been horrified too, maybe he was just like his father.

As if James was reading his thoughts, he said

“And as for that man Jack.” Angus grimaced, so he had given him up to his father after all that effort, it had been wasted.

“I’ve looked into him, he’s working for the CIA, for Webber, he’s after you and me. Angus he was going to kill you last night. I know you told me, he was there and he saved your life, but it was all a set up. The drug that filled the air, that was a set up, it was to make you confused, to make us all confused. Those soldiers were there as a second option, the reason they tried to kill him was they thought he was compromised. He would have killed you anyway if they hadn’t interrupted” James paused after this long speech to his son, the truth was he didn’t know any of this. He’d made a series of educated guesses and frankly had no idea why Jack or whoever he was had spared his son’s life, but he didn’t like it, he didn’t like Angus doubting himself and their plans. This Jack whoever he was had gotten in his son’s head in a very short space of time and that was a big problem that had to be dealt with.

Angus looked shaken, he couldn’t quite believe everything his father was telling him. Jack wanting to kill him made no sense, but the drug that had coated the air last night was produced on a mass scale, only someone like the CIA could haven done that. Maybe it was all a like and Jack had said people were coming for them, maybe he was trying to tell him, it had to be him no matter what. His father wouldn’t lie about something this important to him, he wouldn’t, he had always tried to protect Angus, even Angus hadn’t been grateful for it, he’d always tried to teach him even if Angus refused to learn. But he’d be good now, he’d make his father proud of him, he’d do everything his father asked. Angus shook his head, god how it ached, like something in his mind had been snapped, maybe the drugs from last night were still in his system. He tried to clear his mind, his navy eyes blinking rapidly, he looked up his father, words poured out not quite his own (although he didn’t realise that)

“I’m sorry I let you down. I won’t shame you again. I promise I won’t disrupt our plans, II want to help. What do you need me to do?”

James smiled, Angus was back in line with only a little bit of persuasion. Perhaps this could work out after all.

“ I know you like to hunt my boy and I’ve denied you that. But now it’s all yours, I want you to kill this man who betrayed you after saving you. I want you to kill this agent, I want you to kill Jack.”

Angus looked back at his father and nodded. He wouldn’t let his father down again, Jack Dalton saviour or not had to die. He would bring his father Jack’s body and it would all be dealt with.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets to deal with some bad ass ladies and we get a bit more history. Comments and feedback welcome

While Angus was contemplating Jack’s apparently gruesome demise, Dalton had dragged his exhausted ass out of bed to see Patricia Thornton. One of the most powerful witches in the city, she knew everyone and everything or so the rumour went, she’d worked for the CIA at one point in another life, but that had disappeared when she’d you know turned out to be a traitor and nearly killed everyone.

Dalton wat not fond of Thornton, he’d taken her betrayal of the agency personally, understandable given he’d nearly died, but as he’d gotten older and his own sense of morality had bent slightly, he realised she was a useful contact to keep. Thornton now made a substantial living selling electronics and surveillance equipment and on the side lines some intriguing narcotics to the rich and famous of L.A. They met in one of the many bars in LA, it was packed full of people out celebrating and chatting, studenty, cheap and social

Thornton sat alone, dressed in an elegant red trousers and a leather jacket, she sipped a glass of red wine, she stood out a mile to Dalton.

“Patti” he said nodding as he came to join her

“Jack, it’s been a few years.” Thornton said smiling

“True, I’ve almost forgotten you tried to killed me and all my friends.” Jack said acidly, he hadn’t meant to snap at Patti, he was sorta over that, but it had been a long 48 hours.

“I assume there was a reason you wanted to see me? Other than to berate me for my apparent crimes of twenty years ago? If there isn’t I’ll be leaving, I’ve plenty of other appointments tonight” Thornton downed her drink and made to get up. Jack held up his hands in defeat

“Patti, I’m sorry. I do need your help, all is forgiven…(that was a lie) Something bizarre happened last night and I need your help.” Jack responded, Patricia Thornton smiled at him

“So I take you didn’t kill the MacGyver heir then?”

“No, what of course not, I’m not into killing kids, no matter what they’re suppose to have done or their fathers.”

“You did always have a weakness for children Dalton, particularly broken ones.” Patricia said smiling again. Jack raises his eyebrow, surprised

“What? I remember your early days at the CIA, whenever we broke a smuggling ring with people or rescued kidnapped children or child soldiers, you were always the first to put you arms around them and tell them it was going to be okay. What was that girl you grew so fond of? Ria, Rhianna??”

“Riley...”Jack says quietly

“If I recall you helped her get into MIT?” Patricia says

“That was different, Riley and I, I mean her mom and me, we were a thing and I was just looking out for her.” Dalton said looking away from Thornton, he never liked her trick of being able to see into his head.

“That maybe so, but my point still stands.” Patricia responded folding her arms pausing.

“So this MacGyver kid, he’s broken then? Or messed up? He certainly wasn’t what I expected when I met him.” Jack said settling again

“As broken as they come, if rumours are to be believed.” Jack gestured for her to continue, he’d done enough talking frankly and was worried he might give something away unintentionally.

“You know the reputation of James MacGyver, violent, cruel and a sociopath, even by the standards of a monster as you so love calling us. But he apparently wasn’t always like that. When he was first sired, he was a relative innocent,” Jack snorted “Well perhaps innocent is the wrong word, he always had that strange obsessive edge to his personality, but he was genuinely interested in helping the world, he saved a lot of people. His institute was a safe haven, the CIA even worked with them on occasion. I believe your friend Matilda Webber knew him rather well.”

“What??” Dalton started

“Webber is older than she looks and this was later Jack when James was a more mature vampire. Do try to keep up.” Thornton said smirking, god she drove him mad sometimes

“Back to the kid please, Patti.”

“Of course, Jack, but mustn’t skip ahead in my story. It’s rude. So anyway, eventually James met the woman who would become his partner, Ellen Hayes, she was brilliant, such a waste, when she ended up with James.”

“So, she was a witch like you?”

“No, not like me, she was unique…a phoenix witch, they’re supposed to represent death and comfort souls as they pass on, maybe that was why James found her so appealing?”

“Patti, point, please…not that I don’t love hearing you talk.” Dalton said gesturing with her hands to pick up the pace

“My point is Jack, is that after she died, something in James broke in two, maybe it was broken before, there was rumours of his experiments even before then. But after she went, he descended further into his madness, the institute became a torture chamber, his power got stronger and stronger and no one did anything about it. Even I thought James had to be stopped, I have a high regard for my own life and I know that James will come over for witches just as he’s coming for humans.”

Thornton paused for breath after her speech

“Imagine raising a child in all that, I doubt the boy even remembers his mother. But James will see her every time he looks at him, seeing him from a distance, he’s the spitting of image of her. That blonde hair and those eyes and James will hate him for it, I'm sure. He'll have wanted to erase every memory of her, to turn his son into a mirror of him because if he looked like her, it would too painful. He’ll be at war with himself, every second of minute of every night of his life.”

At this point Jack looked even more confused

“Look Jack, Angus MacGyver shouldn’t by rights exist, everything about James should have meant he couldn’t even have a child...with Ellen” Patti’s voice cracked slightly

“You knew her?” Jack questioned

“Yes, I knew her.” Patti paused again “She was a kind soul, she radiated fire and light, for all the ideas about her representing death, everything about her was about life, her powers connected her to everything in the world, she saw the world differently everything was part of each other. I liked her.” She finished again, looking at the table, an expression of genuine sadness came over her face

“That explains a few things about last night.” Dalton responded, Patti raised her own eyebrow and then it was Dalton’s turn to talk. He described Angus in detail, his refusal to kill, the attack, his ingenious way of getting out of it, the explosive blood and the eyes and the drug in the air.

“So maybe there is more of his mother in him that I thought. I told you he’ll be fighting himself, from the description you’ve given me. It sounds like his father’s influence is largely winning. Although I’m fascinated by his reaction to you, you wanted to protect him and he wanted to protect you in turn.”

“I wouldn’t go that far Patti, I’m just not interested in putting a bullet in a kid. But if he’s a monster that needs to be taken down then I know what needs to be done.” Jack responded

“Maybe, but kids are your weakness Jack whether you admit it or not. As to the drug you mentioned, I’ve sold it before, but not on that scale. It’s usually sold to private households, addicts who want to forget their sorrows as you say or the rich and famous who want to spice up an intimate dinner party or do horrible things to people.” She responded

“So how did it get it into the party? I’m assuming James wasn’t bothered about his guests remembering?” Jack says

“I suggest you talk to your CIA friends, particularly Webber, only they would produce the drug on that scale. I have neither the facilities nor the interest in doing it myself, it attracts too much attention and it will invite James’ wrath, something I don’t want in any form.”

“Seriously, you think Webber is involved? Come off it Patti, you’re losing your touch.” Jack snorted getting up to leave

“Think about it Dalton, the MacGyver heir is a powerful asset to the CIA, his father is a monster. Maybe they thought they could use him, maybe they thought you weren’t good enough. Either way, you need an organisation like the CIA to produce the drug on that scale, no ordinary seller such as myself would ever do it.” Patricia called after it him. Jack grunted in response, but he did pause and turn around.

“Alright, one last question”

“Only one I’m shocked.”

“Why are you helping? Normally when we meet, you want a lot more than just to talk and you expect to be paid. You’ve not said anything about money or favours and you were going to let me leave just now, weren’t you?” Jack said, for the first time in their conversation, Thornton looked a little uncomfortable.

“As you said. I knew Angus’s mother, Ellen. She was important to me. I would not see her son butchered like animal or become a weapon of his father or the agency.” Thornton said getting up

“And you think I have a part to play in that?” Jack said

“Fratres in armis, my dear Dalton, fratres in armis” Thornton responded, smiling as she swept away from him.

“Wait, what does that even mean??” Jack called after her. “God damn witches” he murmured in her wake.

***

After Patricia had given Dalton a history lesson and some annoying latin terminology, Jack made a second stop for the night; the CIA. Annoying as it was, Thornton had a point, the agency could produce drugs on that kind of scale and Jack figured Webber owed him an explanation anyway. So, he drove his beautiful old car through the streets of LA to a shabby set of office blocks on the edge of town, this was not of course the official offices of the CIA, that was in Langley as everyone knew. But they had a branch in every city and Dalton wanted to surprise Webber and not give her a chance to come up with a bullshit cover story. So he drove up casual as anything, walked up to the doors, noting the lack of guards, something about keeping a low profile maybe, well screw that he thought. He walked in pushing the doors open with a bang and shouted

“I would like to speak to Director Webber now please!”

Agents came out of nowhere, all wielding guns at him, he grinned at them

“Now boys, you don’t need to do anything stupid. I just want to see director Webber that’s all you.”

The guns remained pointed at him. Dalton smiled

“Fine, have it your way.”

He slammed his elbow into the nearest agent, wrenching the gun out of his hand. He shot out two lights in the lobby and choked the agent out, rolling forward he kicked the next two in the shins sending their guns flying and for his finale he grabbed the nearest light stand and swung it round his head taking out the last agents with an almighty thwack.

“If you’ve quite finished…” Webber echoed from the second-floor glaring at him. He smiled.

“If these fine young men had simply done what I asked, none of this would have been necessary.” Jack responded gesturing to the mess and chaos around him.

“I really don’t have time for your crap Jack. This better be good.” Webber said walking away

“Fine Matty, no small talk, that works for me.” Jack said racing up the stairs and after her.

“I’ve got a whole bunch of questions for you director.” Jack emphasized the last word with extra sarcasm. Webber as weary as ever just waved her hand

“Okay first and foremost, why the hell do you want me to kill this kid? No noo I’m not done. I watched him last night. He’s clearly not dangerous, he might be a hunter. But he’s not some dangerous psychopath, that’s crap. Secondly, the kill squad? What the fuck Mattie? With a drug cloud, I seriously resent inhaling a fuck ton of squirrel’s claws in my face. If I want get high or forget my troubles, I’ll get drunk. Thank you very much ooh and finally burning blood? Explosive blood? Explanation now like right now? You’ve clearly not given me everything, sent me in half blind into a situation to get myself killed, I mean if it wasn’t for the fucking kid. I’d be dead too.” Jack paused to breath after his rant.

“He saved your life?” Webber said querying the last bit of Dalton’s only slightly incoherent rant

“Yeah, after your kill squad turned up, he came up with a plan. Made an exploding dart, his own blood was fuel. Evened the odds and kept us alive.”

“And he finished them off afterwards?” Webber said suddenly angry

“Yep, tried to stop him, but couldn’t. He was very practical about the whole business, he said it was kindness compared with what his father would to do them.” Jack said, suddenly tired.

“Okay Jack, fine, you want an explanation. I’ll do my best, the kill squad wasn’t my plan, but the agency wanted a backup in case you failed. And you clearly did.”

“A lot of agents died because of your back up plan Webber”

“Jack be quiet. And to your other questions, yes it appears that Angus isn’t like his father. We suspected that from early on, his mother’s influence maybe or just because he’s not wholly demonic. His reaction to you clearly indicates that. His father is still a serious problem and needs to be taken out. And the blood, that’s what your interested in I can see that. You actually saw it?”

“Lit up like a fucking glow stick.” Jack said now getting a little impatient.

“Alright, Jack no need for language. That’s good, it means he can be useful to us.”

“Useful Webber? Useful? He’s a fucking kid and a damaged one at that.”

“Let me finish Jack, I know you’re annoyed. But I sent you in to check this boy out and you’ve come back with the goods. He is useful, if he’s useful I can persuade the agency not to kill him.”

“So I was bait then? How did you know I wouldn’t kill him?”

“You can’t resist a bird with a broken wing Jack and if you had killed him, it wouldn’t matter anyway. His father would be on the war path and you’d be dead most likely.” Webber said shrugging her shoulders.

“Charming, it’s nice to know you regard my life so highly. Alright Webber, if you don’t actually want to kill the kid? What do you want to do with him?”

Webber smiled, she continued to walk along the seemingly endless corridor they had been going along, she led Jack to the last room on the left. It was like entering another world, the grey corridor was replaced by heavy material, the room was seemingly lit by candle light, old bits of machinery lay everywhere as in centuries old machinery. There were bits of jewellery around too, glinting in the light. Jack’s jaw dropped, Webber continued to smile, she always enjoyed rendering Jack speechless.

“Impressed Dalton?” She said grinning

“My brain is still, uh yeah. Impressed, I mean I wouldn’t mind having a few these myself, is that 15th century silver knife” Jack said reaching out to grab something, Webber slapped his hand away.

“Focus Jack, you can’t have any of these fancy toys. What I want to give you is this.” Webber span around the room, her eyes flicking over the weapons and jewellery until she saw it, a blue stone on a black string. Jack was a little disappointed.

“A trinket on a string? And it doesn’t even sparkle, I’m disappointed Matty.” Jack said taking the necklace and flicking it between his wrists.

“Be careful Jack, that trinket, is a piece of pure sapphire from Afghanistan. It might not sparkle, but it’s got some serious power behind it. It can influence people, their minds, their actions.”

“Ewww, weird. Why do I care about it then?” said Jack shuddering as he dropped it on a cloth covered table.

“Because you’re going to use it to recruit James MacGyver’s son.”

“I’m going to what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I alway thought Patricia Thornton character got a rough deal in the series so this is my remedy. Making her a bad ass witch of somewhat dodgy morals and Matti, she's as mysterious and manipulative as ever :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James MacGyver tries to train his son for the fight and it all goes horribly wrong. Written partly for the second day of whumptober (thus the collar and chains). Feedback and thoughts very much welcome

While Jack got to grips with what seemed like an impossible task, James MacGyver began training his son. Not that Angus didn’t know how to hunt, the essentials of hunting and taking down prey had been drilled into him since childhood. But James felt that his son needed a refresher course and Angus was now desperately trying to please his father so he willing submitted to James’s more and more demented demands. They would spend hours tracking people through the night streets of L.A. watching people, waiting, observing every movement. None of the people were particularly exciting or scary; some were drug addicts, some were students, there was the odd criminal, but not one of them were what Angus would have described as worthy prey. The first time Angus had told his father this, his father had slapped with such force that Angus had fallen onto the street and a bone in his cheek was fractured. Tracking these people wasn’t about skill, his father had told him, it was about blood lust, he needed to learn to control it and to drain people without making a mess. So every time Angus caught someone no matter who it was James insisted he drained them in front of his father without spilling any mess or sludge. If he did, James slashed his son’s hands or his face or arm with a knife with a silver knife to show Angus he’d made a mistake.

As the days went on Angus became an efficient and neat killer, just as his father would have wanted. The abuse from his father lessened and he should have been happy about that, but his mind was tangled. He hated killing so many people who were so ordinary, so normal. He didn’t like taking these people’s lives from them, it seemed like there was no purpose to it at all. Some part of him buried deep in his mind was telling him this was wrong and a waste of his skills. That was the other issue, Angus was bored, he did what his father asked of him because he thought it would make his life easier. But he was bored out of his mind. He missed things that weren’t related to hunting; his work at the Phoenix, he missed Bozer and the other scientists. He hated living so constantly in the night, he longed to be absorbed in something else that wasn’t related to his father’s demands. Of course, he stayed silent, he knew there was no point saying any of this to his father. He’d given his word to his father and he knew that he would need to kill Dalton soon and all of this mess would help him in the long run, even if he couldn’t see it currently.

James realised his son’s ‘reluctance’ in the hunt after a month or so of this ‘training’, although he was behaving and doing what he wanted, he did not seem to revel in the night the way he should have been. That would have to change if he was going to have enough strength and power to kill this agent, James thought. He decided to give his son a little more incentive to do it , so one evening, before they left James called his son down to his basement once again to ‘talk to him’

“Son, I feel we need to speak about your progress in recent days. I’m pleased with what you’ve been doing. You no longer cause so mess and chaos which is good. You are becoming what I want you to be.”

Angus said nothing, he stared at the floor, respectful and quiet. Although inside he was disgusted with this idea. He never wanted to be his father, he just wanted…he just wanted his father to be content with him.

“However, I feel that although you’ve doing what I ask you to do, you’re not truly embracing your power. You need to revel in the night and really enjoy who you are. With that in mind, I have a different idea for this evening.”

At this point Angus looked up, his father he registered was wearing gloves and was resting his hand on something on the table covered with cloth. His father slowly pulled the cloth off the table to reveal an elaborate silver necklace with a huge thin silver chain. Angus backed away as his father picked up the chain and moved towards his son.

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. What else can I do?” Angus said backing up, panicking.

“You can submit to this, it will give you more power, it will help you understand your darkness.” James said holding the necklace out for his son

“No it won’t, it’ll kill me, I can recognise solid silver when I see it. You put that around my neck, I’ll die, I’ll choke or bleed out. I won’t…I can’t…” Angus tried to run from his father, bolting towards the stairs, but his father’s age and superior power won out, he managed to catch his son ramming the necklace over his son and wrapping it around his neck twice. Angus fell on his knees as he felt the burns around his neck, he tried to pull it off with his hands but ended up burning them as well. He lent back against the wall crying, convinced he was going to die right there.

“You won’t die, but this piece of silver will mean I will always be with you even more than before and it will remind of you of the dark within you. When you embrace your dark heart this will come off and you’ll be free.” James murmured in his ear

Angus said nothing, he was sure the pain from his neck would drive him mad, he couldn’t think or concentrate. He didn’t need his father in his head anymore than he already was, this latest bout of training was surely going to kill him. Eventually James dragged his son up and pushed him out and they began hunting as they had done every night for the past month. Initially Angus couldn’t focus at all because of the pain, but as the hours continued on he found if he pushed everything else out of his mind, his guilt, thoughts of his other life, everything and focused entirely on the hunt, it was bearable. James watched amused as his son’s mind began to empty of almost everything but the hunt, his navy eyes became almost black as he drank more and more, soon he would be ready.

The night was drawing to a close when James chose their last victim. Father and son hid in alleyway as James gestured to the other side of the street. It was a young mother in a tracksuit walking a pram along cooing to her baby as she walked, she looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes from having to cope with a crying baby on no sleep for weeks on end. She was an easy mark, distracted and weak, it wouldn’t be a problem for Angus. But of course it was, the guilt he had so successfully pushed away for the rest of the night came back in full force. He looked back at his father shaking his head, his eyes pleading with him, begging him not to. In response James, pushed his son against the wall and took a small section of the silver chain and yanked it, pulling it tighter around his son’s neck. Angus started to claw at his father’s hands trying to breath. James eventually stopped and let his son down, Angus fell in a heap on the floor still rasping. James looked down at him still waiting. Angus pulled himself up and moved silently over the mother and child, his heart in his stomach, he couldn’t’ do this, he had to do this, he couldn’t, she was an innocent, he had too. Thoughts span around in his head as he moved closer to her and then suddenly he was behind her, his hand on her chin and gripping her shoulder.

“This won’t hurt, you just need to stay quiet…” He murmured in her ear. She gasped

“Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt my baby.” She murmured through tears

“It will all be over soon…they’ll be no pain.” Angus murmured, he moved in for the kill, his mouth on her neck, but then he stopped. For all the pain his father was causing him he just couldn’t kill this mother and baby, there was no point to it, they were innocent, they were people, they hadn’t done anything. Angus blinked and pushed the woman away, she almost tripped over the pram with the baby, the baby felt the bump and started to cry. She stared at him horrified

“Run…now” Angus whispered, he could feel a pain his head building, the burning sensation behind his eyes had returned from all those weeks ago. He could feel the chain wrapped around his neck digging deeper into his skin, a little bit of blood started to drip down his neck. He put his hands up over his eyes to try and stop the pain, he could still feel the woman standing there, Mac opened his eyes again, they had started to glow a terrifying sapphire blue, white and gold sparks were spinning in circles in his pupils, he fell to his knees.

“I said run!!!!” he roared at her, the woman grabbed her baby out of it’s pram and ran away, the baby still screeching at the top of it’s lungs. 

James raced over to his son and grabbed him by the collar of t-shirt

“What the hell have you done???” He screamed at him

“I can’t do this….I won’t…” Angus cried his eyes still glowing and turning the colour of lapis lazuli beads.

James grabbed the silver chain once again and dragged his son away, he was aware that they were starting to attract attention. People were opening windows and looking out, the screeching baby and mother had made too much noise. Angus fought against him hard, struggling against the chain around his neck, his father’s voice in his head, trying to get away from him. James furious with his son backhanded him, the force of the blow knocked his already weakened son out. James picked up his son’s body and raced home.

Angus woke up not long after once again in his father’s basement, his head in agony with a confused series of memories of the night. He could remember the woman and the baby, fighting his father, but images of his mother were in his head too, smiling and whispering to him, telling him how brave he was, that he was her boy, that she was so proud of him. Angus shook his head trying to clear away the confusion, but that only made his headache worse. He tried to get up but the silver chain around his neck was now attached to the wall, he also realised his father had added two silver collars to his wrists, keeping him very much on the floor. He sat trying to calm himself, he knew his father was coming and that everything had gone horribly wrong. After promising to obey his father, he had flouted his rules, caused a scene and nearly gotten them both killed.

James appeared a few minutes later, a look of fury on his face. He walked over to his son and backhanded him again, Angus spat the blood onto the floor. James then began to rant and rave, how his son had failed him, how much of a disappointment he was, how ashamed he was of him, how he was nothing, not worthy, how he would derail all their plans.

“And then if you’d killed that woman when I’d told you too, none of this would have happened. But you hesitated and then caused chaos”

“What ? I didn’t’ kill her, I know I didn’t, I stopped myself even though you told me too. I didn’t...I know I didn’t”

“Ah but you did my boy, don’t you remember, you went after her and ripped her throat out and her baby too. That was cruel, even I thought that was unnecessary…To kill a baby…I had to drag you away by that silver chain and get us away.”

Angus shook his head back and forth, shutting his eyes

“I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her, I didn’t…”

“Oh but you did, so much mess everywhere after everything I told you, everything I taught you.”

“ I didn’t…I didn’t” Angus said again and again, tears coming down his face.

James wanted to scream, his son refused to bend to his will, he had tried the easy way, to teach him, to nudge him in the right direction. But now only the hard way was left, he had to get that power out of him, those eyes, he had to control that, he had to make sure his son’s blood was his and his alone. Over the next few hours, James slapped his son, he threw a right hook and left hook again and again, repeating the story of the murdered mother and baby at his son. He even dragged him onto his feet so the chain cut into his neck and nearly strangled him. There was blood everywhere and Angus wept, he didn’t say anything, he just cried and cried because everything hurt and wouldn’t stop, finally he collapsed against his father. 

When this happened James carefully moved his son away from him and loosened the chains on the wall so his son could lie on the floor. James stared down at his son’s face for , now black and blue, breathing shallow from smashed ribs, blood covered hands, a mess. He waited 10 minutes, listening to the rasping breaths coming from the floor. Then he knelt next to him and cut open his own wrist, he spoke to his son softly

“Angus, Angus it’s time to wake up…”

Angus jerked awake and groaned again, he thought he’d escaped this hell once and for all

“Angus, you need to eat…” His father said softly gesturing to his wrist.

Angus stared at his father through bruised eyes, he couldn’t understand what was happening, there was too much pain everywhere. But he was hungry and he wanted to heal, to take the bruising and the biting sharp pain away, he grabbed his father his wrist and drank leaning against him, James said nothing, he simply waited and stroked his son’s blood streaked hair.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally back to the beginning of the story! Jack and Mac face off against each other!! I'm also submitting this as part of Whumptober Day 7 
> 
> No 7. I’VE GOT YOU   
> Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker
> 
> The above is just so perfect for these two! Let me know what you think, feedback welcome :D

Jack had eventually been persuaded by Matty that maybe he could do something for Angus or if he didn’t the kid was dead anyway. So he had taken Matty’s fancy jewel and began to track him again, but he wasn’t at the Phoenix in the way that he had been. He always seemed to be at his father’s mansion or with his father, Dalton watched them from afar. The victims they went after he helped as best he could, sometimes he got to them too late, sometimes the kid didn’t drain them, despite what his father thought. He had watched from the whole debacle with the mother and baby and was impressed when Mac had managed to push his urges away enough to fight, even with a silver chain around his neck. Dalton knew if he could get the kid on his own, he might have a fighting chance, but that was it. So he took to stalking the Phoenix Institute, hovering at the doors, both front and back until he found a way in. He worked out where the kid’s office was and slipped passed the guards, despite his loud mouth Dalton had a remarkable gift for disappearing into the background when he wanted too.

He sat there every night for nearly a month, bored out of his mind, poking through drawers, looking on his computer, checking for cameras (there were none), Dalton supposed that if anyone had ever been crazy enough to break into the Phoenix, they wouldn’t hang around long enough to be caught on camera. Finally Angus reappeared one evening, elegant suit as always, he walked into his office in the Phoenix to behold Jack sitting there swinging his legs, calm as you could please, grinning like a loon (at least to Angus’s eyes).

“Hey kid”

“Why are you here? How did you?”

“Got passed the guards, your pa pa should hire some new security. These current ones are real slow.”

Angus gaped at him

“And to answer your first question. To see you. Kid, we gotta talk. I’ve got a..” Jack didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Angus went for him, his father’s commands screaming in his head, his eyes went a deep navy and he attacked with vengeance, the monster that was Jack, the man who was trying to kill him, who would destroy him and his father, who destroy what family he had left. Jack was annoyed the kid attacked him, but not shocked. He brought his silver knife up to stop Angus and manage to slice the kid’s arm open, the glamour of the suit disappeared and the plain t-shirt and jeans was revealed underneath. Dalton’s eyes widened as he saw the heavy scars that was on the boy’s arms that hadn’t been there a month before. 

Dalton slammed into Angus in turn, crushing him against the wall and making a nice dent in the panneling. The two fighters grappled with each other, at one point Angus overturned his desk to trip Dalton but missed. When Jack leapt up to punch the kid, he got a bite to the neck, wrecking his leg in the process. When Angus turned around for a moment to grab a different weapon, Jack buried his knife in the kid’s back producing a scream. Angus fought back in return kicking Jack, pushing a metal spike from the now broken desk in Dalton’s shoulder, Jack managed to pull it out and smashed it against the boy’s leg. The fight went on and on, Angus growing more desperate as the minutes passed, his father’s voice spinning around in his mind, in his very blood.

After 2 hours, the office was a mess and both men had collapsed on opposites sides of the room, blood and destroyed metal and brick scattered the floor.

Mac leant against the bars of his broken desk, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his lips and the tips of his fingers. His blond hair flicked over face covering his dark blue eyes. His back was bleeding from Dalton’s knife, he could feel one of his legs was broken. 

Dalton lay against the opposite wall clutching his shoulder and nursing a black eye as well a cut across one of his legs.

“ I warned you…not come after me…or my father.” Mac said through laboured breaths

“And I told you kid. I got no choice, this has got to end somehow. Your father’s got to be taken down.” Dalton responded equally exhausted.

Dalton forced himself onto his feet and continued on

“Look, I get that you hate me, don’t worry I don’t like you much either. But we can work together.”

Mac scoffed not getting up to face him

“The fact is, you hate your father more.” Mac turned around very slowly, still not getting up, he looked up at Dalton, fixing his eyes on him. Dalton swallowed, but he didn’t falter.

“He made you what you are? Child of night? Son of dark, he runs in your veins. You can hear him every second of every night”

“You know nothing about me or him.” Mac responded very quietly

“That’s crap and you know it. I know how sires work, I know you’ve been like this since your childhood, when do your powers start to manifest? Around 10, am I right? I know all the stories about you. How you’re his mirror image in everyway, the brilliant mind, the calculation…” Mac lost control, he lunged at Jack, ready to rip his throat out.

Dalton through his fist out, aiming to punch Mac in the face. Mac saw the fist coming and tried to change tactics to go for Dalton’s wrist, but he misjudged. Dalton’s solid silver skull ring caught him square in the cheek and he recoiled, groaning clutching his cheek.

“Look, Mac, just stop for a second, alright. We can work together.” Dalton said circling him fists at the ready

“Don’t call me that, no one calls me that, not since…” Mac said lunging again at Dalton, but he was ready this time and blocked him again easily.

“Not since when huh? Not since your mom died? Not since your father killed her? ”Dalton jeered seemingly at him. He wanted to bait him, to make him react, if he could just make him react enough, he could get through to him. The two men began to trade blow in earnest once gain, punches and slashes on both sides. Mac’s physical strength and agility gave him an advantage, but the constant jibes from Dalton distracted him again and again. So the soldier was able to get away from him again and again. He had to kill him, his father had commanded it, he could feel it in his blood, his father’s demand, the pain running through him as more and more time passed without his father’s commands being listened too.

Finally it became too much, Dalton managed to pin Mac to the floor, snarling at him. Somehow Dalton managed to keep Mac to the floor with one hand, he pulled something out from his jacket pocket, a blue and silver stone on a black string and slammed into it Mac’s chest. Mac screamed as blue light flashed from his chest, his whole body contorting upwards. Dalton took advantage and slipped the string over the boy’s head. The blue light was gone. Mac lay there breathing heavily

“What was that?” he said

“Your father’s influence has temporarily gone away, now will you listen to me?” Dalton said settling himself next to the young man

Mac didn’t get up or look at Dalton, he just lay there breathing heavily.

“What do you propose?”

“So you’re willing to listen now then?”

“I’ve got no choice have I?”

“Kid, we need to work together. Your father needs to go, the CIA is going to go for him, they’ll kill him.”

“And me?”

“They don’t want you. They get that you’re just a kid, you’re not like your father. James MacGyver is the one who has to pay for his crimes.”

“You’re wrong Dalton, I’m exactly like my father, I hunt, I kill. You’ll hunt me down too, just like you have with so many others.”

Jack paused looking at the kid still lying on the floor with his eyes closed. He dragged his wounded and tired body over to Angus and slowly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Angus’s eyes snapped open in shock and he retreated automatically, he’d learnt long ago not to trust a hand on his shoulder. Jack simply blinked when the boy retreated, making a few mental notes about what must have happened to Mac to make him so scared of a simple tap on the shoulder, but he looked Angus square in the eye.

“Kid, you’re not like your father. I’ve seen a lot of your kind in my life, you’re right, I’ve hunted and killed plenty of you. But you are unique, I’ve never seen a demon resist the urge like you can. I mean it’s amazing, it shows how much you’re not like your father. That mother and baby, you were this close and trust me if you’d fed on them, I’d killed you then and there. But you didn’t, you pushed them away…it was impressive.”

“What?”

“The mother and baby, you and your father were hunting them. I saw you, your dad told you to kill them I guess? And you were going to I swear, but just like the first night I met you, you stopped at the last second and pushed them away.”

“But I didn’t, I mean I did push them away, but I killed them anyway, my father told me.”

“Ahh, he’s lying to you…” Angus went to attack him again “Easy kid, I know for a fact they’re alive, I watched them get back home myself. I mean she and her baby are gonna need a fuck ton of therapy for the rest of the lives probably. But they ain’t dead….I can take you too them if don’t believe me.”

Angus sat back against the wall in shock. His father had lied ? He couldn’t quite believe, surely Jack had to be lying? But what reason could Jack have to lie to him? His brain couldn’t comprehend and his body hurt so much. He just stared at Jack, Dalton took advantage and went in for a final attack

“Look, I’m sure this is a bit of shock. But I swear to you they aren’t dead and you aren’t your father. Work with me and help bring your father down and you can be free of him, live your own life. I’m guessing you haven’t had much of a chance to do that’”

Angus looked up at Jack and smiled sadly. It broke Dalton’s heart to see it, something so simple, so obviously and Angus looked at him like it was some lost treasure he’d never seen before.

“But what do we do? I mean, my father’s sent me to kill you. He’ll want to know what happened, surely this?” gesturing to the necklace still around his neck “can’t keep him at bay forever?”

“No probably not kid, but maybe we can delay it for a while. Can you hear him in your head?”

“No, not really…I mean, it’s like a faint whisper. I can’t really explain it.”

  
“It’s fine…I take it that’s a yes?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright, first thing’s first you’re coming with me. No don’t look like that, you’re coming to mine. You stink of your blood and mine, you and me both need to get cleaned up. We gotta come up with a plan, but I’ve got a few ideas. You okay with that?”

Angus nodded, finding novelty value in someone who didn’t work for him, even asking his opinion.

“Okay let’s get you up then.” Jack groaned slightly as he eased himself up and gestured for Angus to follow. Angus slowly leaning on the wall for support, he tried to walk, but stumbled because of his broken leg, Jack caught him on his non-wrecked shoulder.

“I got you kid.. don’t worry.”

Slowly the pair walked towards the door away from the wreck of the office.

“I got one last question for you kid.”

“Is there something else I can call you besides Angus? I mean it’s sounds like some burger down at Carls jrs and I can’t even think it without laughing.”

“Aren’t you going to call me Mac?”

“I mean, I would, but you did try and stab like twenty minutes ago when I did.”

Mac laughed in spite of his aches and pains.

“You’re right and yes my mom used to call me that and I guess you can call me that too.”

“And you can call me Jack, none of this Dalton crap. Jack suits me just fine.”

Mac smiled and nodded, he had so many questions for Jack. He was terrified of what he was doing, could he really escape his father? Could he be free? He didn’t know, but Jack had somehow managed to give him some hope.


	13. Sunlight + Sheepskin coat + Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so new chapter oooh! Written with the below prompt in mind for Whumptober, Mac and Jack return home and Mac snaps at him.  
> Feedback so welcome, does the dialogue work? Is it too long? Give me the thoughts please :D
> 
> No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?  
> Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Mac and Dalton made a strange pair as they wobbled out of the foundation’s offices leaving the chaos behind. They were both covered in dirt and dust and were leaving a substantial blood trail. Jack was trying to focus on keeping Mac on his feet, the broken leg was proving troublesome, Mac kept trying to walk on it, he groaned repeatedly with the odd yelp as well. What Jack couldn’t understand why it wasn’t healing, even after their fight, Dalton knew Mac’s own gifts should be kicking and he should be recovering, but he wasn’t. Jack put that out of his mind to file away for issues later. After what seemed like an age, they finally got to the back entrance of the foundation, Jack kicked open the door with his foot, so he wouldn’t have to let go of Mac. The duo moved towards Jack’s bashed up Pontiac, it wasn’t exactly an inconspicuous car, elegant and black with more than a few knocks on it, Mac raised his eyebrow at Jack

“Hiding in plain sight kid.” Dalton responded grinning

Mac simply shook his head in confusion which prompted another groan of pain. Jack took a firmer hold of the kid and walked slowly towards the doors, putting his own pain aside. He’d recover later, for now he just had to make sure Mac didn’t die on his feet or in his car. He pulled open the passenger seat door and tried to push Mac inside, but Mac stood stock still despite his wrecked leg.

“I’m not sitting in the back, I’m not some child who needs to be punished.”

Jack’s mind boggled slightly at the level of dysfunction in that sentence, but he responded as civilly as he could

“Never said you were, but you do have a broken leg and your legs are long and gangly as fuck. You won’t be able to sit in the front seat comfortably with me, you can actually lie down in the back and you know rest.”

“I don’t need sleep, I thought you said we were going to talk plans and strategy. Let’s do that..I can…I can…” Mac started to slur his words a little bit. Jack took advantage of his loss of concentration and pushed him gently into the back seat, ignoring his protesting knees as he lent down. He kept a firm hand on Mac’s shoulder and pushed gently down. Mac stubbornly propped his head up but stayed lying down mostly. Jack extricated himself from the car and went to the trunk, he didn’t think vampires got cold even though Mac was really only wearing a cotton top and jeans, but maybe Mac would want something to hold onto. He dug around amongst the many weapons in the back until he found what he was looking, an old sheepskin jacket, which he kept in there for the few times when work drove him out of the sunny LA area. It smelt a bit of his aftershave and the odd sneaky cigarette, but it was fine. He paused again, was this overkill? Why was he doing all this for some fucked up teen (technically young man) with daddy issues and an appetite. Dalton knew on one level, Mac was so…damaged. He pitied him, he’d been used by his father all his life and the CIA were clearly going to use him, something Matty wouldn’t ever acknowledge and Jack wanted to do something nice and well normal for him. The fact that he was basically facilitating this whole situation and removing Mac from one user, only to be potentially screwed over by another, Jack pushed aside like so many other things for the for later pile. He went back over to the still open passenger door and threw the jacket onto Mac;

“In case you get cold or something.”

“You know I don’t get cold right?”

“Whatever, let’s get going.”

Dalton got into the front seat and drove, his injuries were protesting, his muscles ached from the fighting and he could feel that unpleasant sticky sensation on his shoulder from half dried up blood. He checked on Mac in the back, he was now sitting up in the back of the car looking out the window, but with his leg at least stretched out and to Jack’s amusement his sheepskin coat stretched over him, the boy really did look awful. His skin was ice white, like the blandest yogurt ever, his eyes which were their ‘normal’ shade of blue and had huge bags under them which gave them a hollow deep-set look, even his hair looked kinda dull. The only thing Dalton registered that looked vaguely ‘normal’ was the blood streaks across his arm and his face, he picked up that the boy’s blood still glowed just faintly and in what universe was that normal anyway? He eyed the kid with his chin on his fist, staring out of Jack’s window, he watched Mac’s eyes slowly shut and his head drop just for a second and then his eyes snapped open, awake and alert in a scared animal sort of way. Dalton sighed, he really did pity Mac.

The drive lasted a little while as Dalton’s rented flat was in a less salubrious bit of L.A. The two of them didn’t say anything on the drive, Jack didn’t really know what to say to him. Part of his sleepy brain was saying, just dump the kid! He’s nuts, he’s so broken and crazy, leave him with the CIA, TAKE YOUR MONEY AND RUN!! THIS BOY IS GOING TO GET YOU KILLED. But the rest of him was just a tad more complicated, there was something about MacGyver that he found fascinating, watching him work was remarkable and he the potential to be something…something else, other than his father. After so many years of being angry at the world Jack found himself warming to the idea of something or someone more hopeful. Jack arrived at his apartment and parked the car, conscious that they were getting close to sunrise, he speedily moved around to the passenger side and offered Mac his hand. Mac stubbornly refused to take it, he tried to get up, Jack’s coat still on his shoulders, but then almost collapsed on the grass anyway so Jack had to kneel next to him, again he tried to pull Mac up, but the kid refused.

“I can do it!” Mac snapped

“Yeah kid, but you’re doing it at the pace of a toddler and the son is coming up soon and I don’t want you to burn to crisp, before.”

“Before I’ve done what you wanted!” Mac snapped again, still on the grass, his mutilated leg sprawled out to the side.

“Easy Mac, I know we don’t exactly know each other. But I don’t make a habit of watching people burn up if I can help it.”

“Unless you hunt them…” Mac murmured

“But we’ve already established that I ain’t going to hunt you, so calm the fuck down.”

Mac still sat sprawled on the grass, not moving. Jack could see the sun coming up just over the edge of the hill.

“Look, you want to sit here and burn fine, but I’m not going to watch, you want to come inside, give me your hand.” Jack said getting up and offering his hand

Mac still did absolutely nothing, just sat there. Jack wanted to scream in frustration and then something happened that made up his mind. He saw the sun hit Mac’s face and the tiniest hint of a burn started to appear, his skin began to hiss and he flinched, then Mac’s body just dropped onto the grass. Dalton didn’t hesitate, he heaved Mac over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift (Dalton’s shoulder did not appreciate this move), grabbing his sheepskin coat along the way and slammed the door of his car shut with his foot and raced inside. He fumbled with his keys for a few seconds and mumbled a few words to no one in particular, but then he was in. He dropped Mac onto the couch, covering him in the coat again and went around shutting curtains, windows anything that let light in and then returned. Mac woke up a few minutes later with a start, his hand went to his face, he hissed audibly as he put his hand up to touch his newly burned cheek. Dalton grabbed a chair and sat in front of Mac and waited

“What happened?” Mac asked still rubbing his cheek

“You nearly burned to death Mac” Jack said coldly

Mac tossed the jacket onto the floor next to him, then put his head in his hands, he groaned again and then the words came pouring out

“Jack I’m sorry…I’m just so tired…I haven’t slept or fed in days…and I can’t even...I want to help I do. I meant what I said at the Phoenix, I’ll help in anyway can and God I want…I just want my father’s voice out of my head. I can hear him all the time Jack, yelling, whispering…he’s never not there. It’s like…I can’t even think for myself and he’s there, that psychotic son-of-a-bitch telling me everything, telling me what to do, telling me what to think and I can’t even…when you said I could be free Jack. You have no idea what that meant to me, it’s been so long since I’ve done anything for myself. I can’t even remember the last time I did. It was probably when my Mom was still alive…you know she always told me I could chose my own life, that I was special…that I could live in two different worlds…it’s like she was just a dream Jack, that part of my life wasn’t even real.”

Dalton listened to this strange confession, fascinated. He was tempted to stop him mid-speech, clearly Mac needed some sleep. He doubted whether any of this would have come out if exhaustion and by Mac’s desperate tone possible forced sleep deprivation by his own father hadn’t taken over. Jack supposed that it was the equivalent of being drunk for a human. Clearly the kid had been waiting a long time to spill this out and for whatever reason he had picked Jack to tell it too so Jack decided to let him go on, maybe if he kept talking for a little while longer, he would simply wear himself out.

“You know I see her sometimes….in my head, it’s like she’s right there in front of me. I can see her lips moving as she comes closer to me, and she desperately wants to say something to me but I can’t hear it. It’s like some kind of fucked up torment, she’d hate me now if she saw me, saw what I’ve become. She’d think I was some kind…a monster, nothing like her. I’ve got nothing of her in me Jack and it makes so sad…I wish something of her lived on me….I mean I look like her….or at least I think I do. That’s what my father always use to tell me when I was young and I think…he hated me for it…he was so disgusted with me for being there when she wasn’t…it was like I was nothing to him, not worth anything. But I was all he had…and he was so disappointed and I could never not be that…God…I’m just so weary…I could sleep forever, that’s why I didn’t move…I thought, the sun could take me and my worthless…shitty life would be done…”

  
The last few words came out as a mumble as Mac, put his head in his hands once again. Jack didn’t say anything for a little while. He took in Mac, the top and jeans and old boots, he so carefully hidden from his father, the underweight shape, the mess of too long hair, usually slicked back and now sticking out in funny places, the scarred arms, all white lines and raised marks and of course the necklace Dalton had given him to shut his father out. Jack shuddered at what Mac’s father did to him to produce such heavy scars so quickly, he could now ever saw yet another scar on the boy’s neck from that silver chain…. What a fucking psycho, he heard Mac groan louder and looked up again. His hands were over his eyes. Dalton knelt down next to him again and tried to pull his hands away from his eyes

“Kid, come on, what’s happened?”

“Jack…stop III can’t…II”

Jack pulled again at Mac’s wrists and then saw them, those strange blue eyes, they were changing colour, turning an sparkling azure in front of him. Mac tried to blink and shake his head back and forth.

“I can’t control it…I can’t see…I…I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Mac cried. Jack kept a firm hold on Mac’s wrists and kept his voice calm

“Mac listen to me…you can, you can control it. Just slow down…slow everything down.”

“Jack I feel like I’m being ripped in half!!”

“Mac, just listen to my voice. Push all of it away…your father…your mother. All of it, all you’re going to do is listen and calm down, come on kid, just calm the fuck down. I know you can do it, I’ve seen it.”

Slowly the panic in Mac started to recede, listening to Jack’s Texas drawl was soothing, his breathing slowed, the pain behind his eyes started to go away, his blood wasn’t on fire anymore and his father’s voice which had been screaming in his ears again, once more retreated to a whisper he could just about ignore. Jack registered the shift back in MacGyver and breathed a sigh of relief. He really had no idea what he was doing, he didn’t have any clue what the kid’s powers were and if he could control them, but Mac at his core was a frightened child and needed reassuring and Dalton did the best he could for him. When Mac was calm again, Jack dropped his wrists and Mac looked up at him smiled.

“Okay Mac, I know we said, we going to talk plans and strategy, but all I think you really need now is sleep.”

“Jack…I’m sorry you had to hear all that. But really I’m fine…I’m fine.” Mac responded slurring even worse than before

“Sure Mac, you’re fine. But I want sleep too, so you might as well recharge and indulge me and my weak human body, okay?”

Mac nodded at him.

“Alright, so you want the bed? I mean that broken leg isn’t going to be super comfortable on that couch.”

“No Jack, I’ll be fine trust me. You sleep on the bed, rest your old man body. I’ll just stay here.”

Jack snorted, at least the kid had a sense of humour in spite of it all.

“My father…he’ll be able to find me…is this place safe? I mean….how can we stay here?”

Jack snorted again.

“That stone around your neck, more than blocks him out of your head, it kind of protects where you are. Just go with it okay and more to the point in my opinion, this is place is warded. They won’t last forever, but it’ll keep dear old dad at bay for a bit.”

“Are you a warlock as well as a hunter?”

“Ha, no, not even a little, I just know a bit about the occult, and I know how to protect myself. Now any more questions?”

Mac shook his head. Dalton nodded and got up

“You obviously won’t need anything Mac, but if you did, I’m just on the other side of this door alright?”

Mac didn’t respond and Dalton just shrugged, he went through the door on the right side of the tiny apartment to the bedroom and collapsed on it. He figured Mac might need a little space after he unintentionally poured out his hear and soul (did he even have a soul? – of course, he must do!) to a virtual stranger. All the injuries on his own body that he had been steadfastly ignoring for the previous three hours decided to wake up at this point, his wrecked shoulder and his own damaged leg as well as numerous other cuts and bruises all started to complain in unison at Dalton. His brain was full of worry for Mac, for what he was doing, how they were going to even survive. But thankfully the rest of him was too tired out to care , so as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Mac watched him go into the bedroom, apparently deep in thought. He heard Dalton nod off and his heart rate slow. He lay back on the couch and tried to think, he was so drained by everything that had happened in the last few hours, hell the last few days (months too if he was honest), he could barely put any thoughts together. Dalton made no sense to him, his kindness, his generosity and his casual acceptance of Mac’s monstrous nature were so at odds with his reputation as a hunter that he didn’t know what to think. Part of him so desperately wanted to believe what Jack offered him was real, the chance to be free, the chance to leave his father and his blood-soaked legacy behind, but even now Mac doubted it in some small corner of his mind. He also knew his father would come for him, despite Jack’s confidence and the CIA, what would he do for them? Would they keep their word or just kill him?. He stretched his painful leg out on the couch and dragged Jack’s coat off the floor, it certainly smelt of Dalton, cigarettes and gun powder and a musty hint of dust. Mac didn’t mind any of that and he was touched that Jack even thought to give it to him at all, he spread the huge coat over himself and shifted his position once again to try and ease his leg. He knew his injuries weren’t healing, he’d need to feed and that was going to be a problem. Maybe now, though, he’d just do what Jack had asked and sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while with this one! A short update, hopefully more soon
> 
> Mac dreams for the first time in years and his memories and nightmares get tangled....should I expand this a bit? I was thinking it could work better as a longer chapter, let me know what you think (written as part of comfortember as well)

Mac lay there on Jack’s uncomfortable couch with his wrecked leg and for the first time in a long while, he started to dream. He used to dream when he was a little boy; he’d dream of the garden his mother created, sparks flying through the air, he’d remember his mom drawing fire circles through with her fingers and the patterns would get more and more elaborate as he fell asleep at night.

But when she died, his dreams went too, not all at once, his dreams and his memories of her became tangled and dark, although Mac didn’t realise it at the time, his father’s influence was already seeping slowly, but surely into his mind. But there in a crappy apartment in the dodgy part of LA, half-starved and exhausted, Angus MacGyver began to dream once again. He found himself in the forest surrounding his father’s mansion, it was night time, an odd point to be there as he always had to do something during the night. His father always wanted him for some task, so he couldn’t understand why he was home again at such a strange point. He was on the edge of the forest initially, trees spread out in front of him, his father's mansion at his back, surrounded in darkness and navy. The trees looked different from how he remembered them, the bark was rotting in places, some of the branches had even fallen to the ground. Parts of the trees were so damaged, they seemed almost they were being consumed

Mac continued to walk towards his home, not his father’s grand scale monstrosity, but his home. His house that his Mom had built, that he remembered from his childhood, the place where she had taken him to teach him about his ancestors, to tell him how special he was. Even in his worst rages, Mac had stopped his father from getting rid of it, from destroying it, pleading someday that it might be useful to him and his plans. It was dark in the house, Mac switched on the lights as he stepped inside. Everything looked wrong, the walls were in disrepair, there were horrible stains on the furniture. Mac couldn’t understand, how had the place become so damaged in his absence? Had he really been gone that long? He put his hand down on the couch and it came up a reddish, dirty brown and it smelled…like dead blood.

He was examining it when a voice made him flinch

“Hello Angus…”

Mac turned around, his father was standing before him with his hands behind his back. Mac stumbled as he tried to back into the couch.

“You can’t be here….”

“Of course I can, this is my home after all.”

“No...it’s not, mom built this. This was...is hers.”

Mac tried to move away from his father, but instead he felt that old familiar pull. He moved forward a few steps or perhaps it’s more accurate to say his father moved him, his father walked towards him.

“That’s where you’re wrong Angus. I built this, all of this for her, she was my queen, the love of my life.”

“No you didn’t…I can remember her building this, it’s her home, every part of her is in it...I know it.”

“Do you? That’s what you think you remember, you were five, less, you didn’t see any of it. That’s just what you childish brain made up to fill in the gaps.”

“I don’t care what you say. I know it, I can see her building it.”

“Oh…Angus, my foolish boy.”

Mac couldn’t move, there was pain shooting up his half raised arms and into the base of his neck. He tried to move, but that just produced more pain

“Do you remember killing that boy? One of my servants? I could barely you drag off him”

“What?”

“There was blood everywhere…you really think your new friends are going to trust you when they find that out?”

“That was different….”

“Really? What about the mother and baby? So horrible, so violent…so much blood. And I thought I taught you so..”

“No…no, I didn’t kill them. Jack told me…”

“Oh Jack told you and when did you trust the ranting of a mad old man above your own father.”

“You lie to me constantly…you hate me…you want me to become you.”

“Oh Angus…you misunderstand me.”

Mac felt himself being lowered to the floor his hands still raise. His father grabbed his hair

“I don’t hate you…I despise you with every inch of my being. You took my wife from me, you took the one thing I loved in all this world and you stole her from me. But you see…you are all I have of her left, so I can’t lose you I’m afraid, I can’t kill you as much as I would so much like too… You and I we're tried together, by her, by our blood. I'm part of you, you're my son, you're my boy...no matter what” James murmured into his son’s ear

Mac’s head was starting to hurt, his father’s voice in his head, his mind was in a mess, memories of his father teaching him how to hunt, yelling at him, Mac running from his father into these words, finding the house, running to Bozer and all of the while his father’s voice screaming, his words running through his whole body, in his blood. He thought he was going to pass out from the pain, he tried to shut his eyes, but his father’s hand digging into his neck forced them open again and then she was…

His mom, her red hair, her blue eyes, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt just like he remembered her. She put her finger to her lips, the grip of his father’s fingers tightened around his throat, suddenly his mom or the figure who looked so much like her slammed her hand into the grimy wall and a flash blue light came out, blinding Mac and his father. When Mac recovered enough of his sight, he saw her again

“RUN!” She mouthed at him

He was up leaving his screaming father on the floor and out of the house, he ran deep and deep into the forest, he realised at this point he was bare foot, he felt the tangle of roots cutting into his feet. Mac worried momentarily about the shimmering blood trail and his father, but he pushed it out of his mind and kept going, racing and racing, the forest got denser as he went, the lower branches cut his face and his hands. Out of nowhere the forest parted and there was sunlight, the grass and the trees no longer looked sick, it was a bright green and lush. Mac collapse breathing hard, he put his hands out on autopilot horrified at the sunlight and panicked, but then she was there again

“Mac…it’s okay, the light won’t hurt you here. I promise”  
  


“Mom???” Mac looked up and there was she was, brushing his hair out of his eyes

“Hi baby, you’re safe now I promise.”

“How are you here?”

“I can’t explain now. I’ve missed you so much...”

“Mom..I” Mac threw his arms around her

“I know baby…”

“Mom…you’ve been gone my whole life. How are you here now?”

“I wish I could explain, but…that’s not important now”

“But..”

“Please listen to me”

Mac nodded

“You have to stay away from your father. He’ll use you, the power in you, that fire, he’ll use it for his own ends. You have to”

“But Mom, he’s in me, every part of me, how can I escape him? He’s in my veins, literally I can’t ever escape him.”

“Yes you can baby, you can and you will, you’ll be free to chose your own life, to be part of two worlds, do you remember like I told you?”

“But Mom, please…he’s destroying me from the inside. He’s taken everything of you, everything good in me. He’s turned it black…he’s turned into him. I can’t every escape him, I can’t!”

Mac held his mother tight, her words of comfort in her ear, but even there he could hear his father screaming his name in the distance. He held onto her as tight as he could

“You’re my son Mac, you’re my boy, you’ll be free.” She said it over and over again

**

  
Jack’s exhausted and achy sleepy was woken by Mac’s angry shouts. Dalton got himself up with a groan and got into the little living room as fast as he could, he saw the kid sweating and with strange marks on his face, little cuts and red streak, tossing and turning, Jack raced over and then he heard it

“I can’t escape him…I can’t….he’s in my veins, I can’t escape him” Over and over again

“MAC, WAKE UP!!” Jack shouted at the top of his voice

Mac jerked awake, his eyes blinking rapidly, the forest was his gone, his father was gone, his mom was gone too. There was only Jack kneeling next to him. Mac put his feet on the ground and put his head in his hands.

“I can’t escape my father Jack. I just can’t…you should just leave me, I’ll never escape. I can’t escape him at all.”

Dalton took in this damaged kid virtually on the verge of tears, he looked at the blood on his hands and paused, something to file away for problems to deal with later (that was become a big list). Jack eased himself up and perched next to Mac still murmuring to himself. He didn’t touch him, he didn't say anything, he simply sat and waited.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac as a vampire continues. Mac snaps at Dalton (seriously Jack has the patience of a saint) and he learns a little more about his mother. Feedback welcome.

It was a long night. Jack kept his eyes on the kid as the hours passed, Mac remained in the same position throughout, his head in his hands murmuring and weeping to himself. MacGyver eventually stopped and just stared at the floor. Dalton got up at one point to check on the small curtains and various windows to make sure no sunlight would come through. The boy screaming in agony was something they most certainly did not need. But the tiny apartment was still protected, the covers and charms Jack had built were still holding firm. As dawn approached Mac finally moved. His previous stillness unnerved Jack, although he’d fought plenty of demons in his life and they could all be very careful with their movements, it was odd seeing it one who was so young. Mac’s whole body seemed anti the measured quality, his demeanour was more sprawling, not the cat like grace of so many that had come before him.

When Mac finally stood up and rubbed his eyes, he looked very human. He was ice-white with deep shadows under his eyes, his hands had a series of inflamed cuts across them. There was a blood streak from a cut in his hair and his t-shirt and jeans were ripped. Before Dalton could respond, Mac moaned and fell back on the sofa. His leg was still a mess, it was not healing at all, none of the injuries were. Dalton’s eyes scanned him and Mac burned with embarrassment.

“I haven’t fed in days”

“What?”

“That’s why I’m not recovering”

“You read my mind or something kid?”

“No, I can just tell by the look.”

“What look is that?”

“The questioning, the look of pity, the what a mess look. It’s the same look my father gives me on a regular basis.”

“Wooah, slow down there. I’ll admit, you don’t look great and I was wondering, but…no pity. None of that kid.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Alright MacGyver. You’re right, you do need to feed, otherwise you’re not..”

“Going to be of use to anyone?” Mac responded bitterly

“Something like that.” Jack murmured.

“So what you going to do? Go out and buy me blood?” Mac added sarcasm dripping off his every word

“No. I have a reputation to maintain, I can’t be seen buying blood for the MacGyver heir.”

“It’s not like anyone would even know” Mac said quietly under his breath

“What was that? You got another snappy comeback?”

“Forget it. Look…”

“MacGyver. I’ll think of something, just stay seated, alright.”

“Jack. Forget it. I, last night. I look, maybe this won’t work. I’ll just leave...I’ll” Mac began again, forcing himself up

Dalton ran out of patience at this point. He got up and pushed Mac back onto the sofa and the kid tumbled back.

“MacGyver, just shut the fuck up and let me think.” Dalton snapped

Mac suddenly nodded and became very still again. His eyes were on the floor and he put his hands in his lap. Jack groaned internally; Mac was at this point one of two things. Getting ready to kill him or suddenly so scared of Jack that he was getting flashbacks of his father. Dalton really wasn’t in the mood to cope with all this, how he managed to let Matty talk him into all this? This was nuts. He should just dump the kid and take his money and run, why was he so interested in this child surviving, coping? Dalton turned away and took a few deep breaths, trying to work out his next move. None of this was very planned out. Matty had just said get him to the CIA once he had gotten him away from his father and that was it. Dalton moved towards the phone, he was not feeling particularly obliging to Matty Webber currently, so he didn’t dial her number. He dialled someone else, with some hesitation, but he thought it was the best option.

Patricia Thornton turned up at the apartment complex an hour or so later, just as the sun was shining over LA, annoyed but deeply curious. Dalton had always been a thorn in her side, but he was interesting to work with, whatever big thing he had to show, she wasn’t going to be bored. Part of her brain had already kind of guessed what it was, but she didn’t let herself believe it. Thornton found the number of the apartment and tapped impatiently on the door. Dalton opened it and snorted with amusement. Thornton was ridiculously out of place in the run-down building, she was elegantly clad in a black dress, made up so her dark eyes shone in the early morning sunlight and her long hair was up and out of her face. She wasn’t wearing a coat, but carried an expensive leather bag.

“Just come from a party?”

“Get to the point Jack, this better be good.”

“Trust me it is”

“Lead the way”

Jack gestured for her to go inside. She stepped in turning her nose up at the surrounding. She rounded the corner of the short corridor and there he was; Angus MacGyver. Thornton’s jaw dropped.

There he was staring at the floor. He was so human…so normal. Thornton had always stayed away from the MacGyver clan after Ellen died, partly out of self-preservation, partly because she thought it would be too painful. Her son was a bizarre mix, he was in one way a dead ringer for his father, the blonde hair and the slimness was all James. But those blue eyes and neat features were all his mother’s, it was bizarre looking at a boy version of Ellen. She moved forward, her eyes casting a glance over him. He was hurt and ill, the wrecked hands and feet, the tangled up hair. His eyes darted towards her, he made to get up again, but cried out as he tried to stand on his broken leg. Before her brain had even caught up, she started to speak

“Don’t be frightened. You’re Mac right?”

“How did you? How?? Jack who is this?”

“My name is Patricia Thornton. I knew your mother a long time ago. I remember you when you were very small, your mother, she used to call you Mac when you were a baby.”

“I yes…that’s right.”

Thornton smiled at him, Dalton stood on the side lines. The smile was genuine, he was fascinated watching Thornton drop her guard, she was always such a performer, it had been what made her a brilliant commander and traitor ultimately. But to see her smile, to see her so happy. He was struck and a little moved. The agent part of his brain also began to wonder what kind of connection Thornton and Mac’s mother might have had.

“Jack brought me here because he said you needed help, that you were hurt.”

“Dalton’s over exaggerating. I’ll recover fine.”

“You just need to feed”

“I um…yes.”

“Take this then”

Thornton produced a small plastic container from her bag containing blood. It was from a blood bank, but fresh as far as she could tell. Mac’s eyes widened, but he did hesitate before he took it. Thornton picked up on it and opened the contained and took a mouthful herself, shuddering a little. Drinking blood had it’s uses as a witch, but it was never pleasant. That was enough for Mac, he took the container and began to drink. Patricia retreated to the wall Jack had been standing against

“Are you impressed?”

“A little, although not surprised. As I said you’ve always had a penchant for broken things, particularly children.”

“Enough of the babble Patti”

“Alright I’m listening.”

“Can you help him?”

“How exactly?’

“I don’t know, get him to connect with his Mom or something.”

“I’m going to need longer sentences Jack.”

“Look, he’s a terrified kid. His father’s an abusive monster, you know he can get into the kid’s dreams? I had to wake him up from screaming last night. The CIA…the CIA want him as I don’t know some kind of bait or something. Webber’s not being straight with me about”

“Matty Webber concealing things I’m shocked”

“Not helping”

“I’m sorry continue on.”

“Look Webber…I don’t trust her at the moment. The only thing I can think of is his mom, it’s like the only good bit of him he can still feel or something. And you being a witch, I thought you could help. The intel you gave me was solid first-time round, so here I am again.”

“Do you trust me with him?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said, you don’t trust Webber. Do you trust me?”

“I trust whatever connection had with his Mom, it’s genuine and my gut tells me you won’t hurt the kid.”

Patti smiled at Dalton, he often played the fool, but he was incredibly observant. She could use a man like him, if he ever decided to give up his pesky life as a hunter and those annoying morals of his. She returned her eyes to Mac, who was using his finger to get the remains of the blood from the plastic container, it was very undignified. She thought as he ate up what was left, part of her was curious, did he have any of the power his mother had? Was it possible? From the few details that Dalton had given her it seemed very likely, what then? Would she bring him into the coven? Would she have to teach him? What a coup that would be! Turning the MacGyver heir into a witch loyal to her. Perhaps for now, just see what he could do.

Thornton approached Mac carefully. He looked up at her and tossed the cup aside, an interesting little indicator of his privileged life peaking through. He’d grown up having people pick up after him.

“How did you know her? Why does Jack trust you and ‘your connection’ to my Mom”

So he’d heard them then. She might as well be honest, at least for now

“She saved my life and I know she loved you. I would not see the son of someone I cared about deeply about be used as a pawn by anybody.”

“She saved you?”

“When I first came to LA”

“What can you do for me?”

“I can potentially teach you how to use your power, if you have it. Your mother was a powerful witch, unique amongst us. If you inherited even part of her power, it would be smart to learn how to control it. I can offer that to you.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, although it’s in my best interests for you to learn how to use it. I’ve no desire to be around if your power goes off, I value my own life too highly. Since I’ve not interest in leaving LA, this seems an appropriate compromise.”

Mac was taken back by her apparent frankness. His father had always been more manipulative, hell he was more manipulative. Hearing Thornton be so brutally honest had a strange kind of appeal and a small part of him so wanted to learn about his Mom, the nightmare of last night, the horror of his father still in his head, could this woman be away to beat that?

“Can you get him out of my mind?”

“Him?”

“My father…” Mac said quietly, he fingered the necklace Jack had given him. Now he was awake the screams of his father were not there, but the memory and the marks of last night were still very much on him and in his head.

“Ahhh….your father’s influence. I think I might be able to help with that, although from what Jack has said to me, it sounds like you’ve been fighting him well enough for much of your adult life.”

Mac stared at her. She went onto explain a little more, he was struck by how much Dalton had told her and how much she had simply worked out on her own. Thornton was intriguing, as she perched on the sofa next to him, she showed absolutely not fear, nor did she have that strange disturbing scientific fascination either that some supernaturals and humans had with Mac. She seemed genuinely interested him and what he had to say. Eventually the conversation came round to magic or his lack thereof

“How much do you remember of your mother’s magic, did she teach you anything?”

“I mean I was five when she…no I don’t think so”

“Witches are different from normal humans, they pass on things subconsciously, underneath the radar. There may be something in there that you’ve simply forgotten or repressed. Years of living with James MacGyver will do that.”

Mac raised an eyebrow

“I’m well aware of what your father is Mac.”

He swallowed, it was still odd hearing people speak so against his father. It gave him a hint of how much his father and perhaps him were hated by association.

“Mac, try and call your mother, what’s your strongest memory of her.”

“I don’t know. I mean..”

“Mac…think.”

At this point, Jack came forward and sat on the floor next to Mac (much to the annoyance of his knees).

“Look Mac…I know this all coming really fast. But Patti wants to help…You haven’t got any reason to trust either of us. But we…we do want to help.”

Mac’s eyes travelled between the two of them, it had been a bizarre 24 hours. How quickly his world had expanded. At this point he didn’t have too many options

“Should I shut my eyes or?”

“If you think it would help”

Mac feeling a little silly shut his eyes and tried to recall something of his mother. He did not bring the most recent memory of her to mind, the field. But surely something was still in his head from before?

“I remember…she…”

“That garden…at your father’s house was that hers?” Dalton prompted on a hunch

“Yes…she used to grow things…she could make anything grow out of the ground…or the air. She’d…make patterns in the air.”

“That’s good Mac…keep going”

Mac griped the edge of the sofa

“She…she could make fire in the air and flowers, there were colours everywhere...when I…buried myself in the mud…water came out of nowhere…”

Mac grimaced a little, there was a peculiar burning sensation beneath his skin. Little tidbits of his childhood came back to him, Thornton and Jack sat next to him offering the odd encouraging word. Dalton indicated the glowing lines that started to appear beneath his skin on Mac’s arms and Patti grinned back at him. This boy had some serious power inside of him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac's magic emerges and things real violent and bloody. Let me know what you guys think!

This went on all day and into the early hours of the evening, Jack settled himself into the squashed bulky armchair next the sofa and watched the two witches talk. Dalton was once again struck by Thornton’s patience and her seemingly genuine desire to help the kid. It was a comfort to him that he had made the right call. Patti and he had some serious issues between them (she was a murderer, but when he thought about it, depending on who you asked so was he). But if she could really help this guy, maybe at least some of that could be erased. The issue of Webber still remained, the CIA would be wondering where he was and Mac’s father as well. He’d be hunting for him soon enough. If he could persuade Thornton, maybe she could get him out of the city, he had a few allies in Vegas maybe they could head there? Or maybe the answer was to get lost in another bigger city? New York perhaps, there was a vast supernatural community there. Whatever Webber’s fucked up plan had been, Dalton realised that he was no longer interested in being part of it. MacGyver deserved a chance at living and not being crapped over. Jack had also heard many of the rumours about what the CIA was or what it had become and wasn’t interested in submitting a kid to that. All his previous detachment and possibly good sense was gone, he wanted to help Mac and get himself out of this shit storm of a hornet’s nest before it was all too late.

“Mac…come on just a little more.”

“Thornton…I can’t…my head it’s killing me.”

“I know…magic is painful. You’re reaching inside yourself for something inherent and trying to pull it out. But I know you can do it.”

Mac’s patience and brain were exhausted by this stage. Over the past hours, he’d managed to produce strange sensations and sparks, flicks of memory, it was all confusing and painful. He also didn’t really see the point of it, he couldn’t see how this was showing Thornton ‘his power’. It was all pointless. He opened his eyes and managed to get up. The blood and the magic had begun to do it’s work, although Mac didn’t know it he was healing himself. The broken bones were knitting themselves together and the scars on his arms started to fade.

“You’re asking me to do…something I barely understand. I can’t…I won’t”

“Mac, what I’m asking you is…it’s necessary. We do need to see the full extent of your powers a or as much as we can. In an ideal world, we wouldn’t be doing it here…no offence Jack. But given who and what you are, time is of the essence.”

“What I am?”

“You’re the son of a vampire and a witch, what you can do is remarkable. But frightening, if we, if I’m going to teach you and understand it. I need to be able to see it to it’s fullest affect.’

“And I need a break”

With that Mac walked away from her, well wobbled away is perhaps a more accurate description. The tiny flat had a little kitchen with windows that Jack had carefully blocked out so Mac moved in there. Thornton got up too, she stretched her back and her fingers. She’d taught enough students to know when not to push, instead she made Jack go indicating that he should follow him. Dalton shrugged his shoulders and she mouthed go!

Dalton reluctantly followed MacGyver into the kitchen

“Hey, so you how doing?”

Mac glared at him from the sink

“Okay so maybe a dumb question.”

“Look Dalton, I appreciate your help and your friend…but this is all happening too fast. I mean...this is all. I’m a hunter, yes I know…not like you. But that’s what I was born to be I hunt and I feed, that’s who I am, that’s all I am…that’s how I was raised, taught and now I’m being asked…look deep inside myself and I don’t know…share my feelings?”

“You wanted to leave your father’s life, that’s what you said to me”

“Yes…I did...But I just didn’t think…I don’t know. “

“The unknown, I get it..”

“Excuse me?”

“The unknown…that’s what scaring the crap out of you. You’ve made this big choice to leave your shitty life behind with people you barely know and now you’re looking into the big scary world and you’ve got absolutely no fucking clue what to do…and all these people are asking you all this stuff. And after a life of being so sure of everything and all that entails, you’ve got no idea..”

“I…yeah”

“Kid...Mac, Thornton is brilliant. Try one more time with all the voodoo, hokey pokey crap and just call it a night or day or whatever.”

“And then what?”

“Then…we work out what to do next?”

“What about the CIA? Stopping my father, I meant that’s why you wanted me in the first place isn’t it? Why I’m even here?”

Of course the boy was right. But Jack was sad at that statement, Mac thought he was only of interest to people if he was of use to them….

“That’s on the list sure. But one step at a time.” (Dalton decided that his big change in plans was best kept to himself at this stage)

Mac took a deep breath and nodded and went back into the little living room. Thornton was sitting there waiting, gracefully pretending not to have heard everything that had been said.

“Look Mac, I appreciate I’ve been asking a lot of you and not really doing much other than murmuring in your ear. So I thought I would show you something of mine to give you an idea of what I want you to create.”

Mac nodded eager to see magic that he didn’t have to try and produce. Thornton held up her hand and blinked, nothing seemed to be happening. But then a strange cloud of black smoke started come out of her hand fingers and palm. It was fire like, but somehow more ephemeral, Thornton wiggled her fingers a little and the smoke cloud began to swirl more. MacGyver was transfixed by the picture, he couldn’t quite believe or understand what he was seeing. His blue eyes began to sparkle as he moved closer to it, to try and touch it, Thornton registered the movement and held him back.

“Easy Mac, this is my magic at it’s purest, smoke and silver.”

As Thornton continued, Mac registered a series of tiny silver sparkles in the cloud, almost like glitter floating in the air

“You’ll have something like this too. I’m not asking you to look for it, but I wanted to show you this, to give you a sense of what you’re building too. The power you could potentially have, maybe yours will be like your mothers, maybe it’ll be something completely new.”

“What am I seeing here exactly?”

“My power comes from language, from speech, words are both transient and permanent, you say them and they are gone. But some will have affects for days, months or even years. Smoke and silver running through the air.”

Mac held out his own hand, all his worries forgotten, an image of his mother and her fire patterns once again in his head. He focused on the red lights in the air as far as he could recall them, his blue eyes glowing more powerfully and then…it came, a series of small stuttering flames emerging from his own fingers snaking around them. He smiled, the flush of pleasure as all the rage and fire he’d felt blocked for so long being able to get out just a little bit. Thornton moved closer to him and the smoke and fire to intermingle, the silver sparks falling onto his hand, there was a strange tingling sensation. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar, he’d never connected with a witch before. Dalton moved closer too, his hunter’s mind was absorbed in the power before him, it was a rare sight to see to two supernaturals connect on such a basic level.

Unfortunately the moment was ruined by banging on the door. Mac’s fire was gone and he fell backwards against the wall gripping his hand as pain shot up it and into his arm. Thornton extinguished her own power with a wave of her wrist. Dalton walked towards the door knife and gun in hand, Thornton put a protective arm against Mac. Then something or rather someone blew the door away. Dalton got thrown off his feet, the windows of the apartment exploded and Mac and Patti flew backwards onto the tiny balcony. Soldiers swarmed into the room, followed by Webber. Dalton was up fast again, cursing

“Webber, what the fuck?? Why didn’t you just wait?”

“You didn’t answer my knock Jack and after you didn’t appear, I got concerned that your priorities might have changed. So I came looking”

“How did you even..”

Dalton didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Mac started to scream. Jack moved through the debris, pushing soldiers out of his way to the balcony. Thornton had her arms around Mac, black smoke spinning around his arms, pulling spiked pieces of silver out of different sections of his body. Jack rounded on Webber once again

“Jesus Christ Matty a silver bomb, he’s a fucking kid!”

“He’s a valuable asset to the CIA and up until this point, I didn’t know if he’d be compromised”

“For fuck’s sake and you wonder why I left the agency.”

Jack kneeled down in the mess to put a hand on Mac’s shoulder it came away bloody.

“Mac can you hear me??”

Mac didn’t respond, he had his arms wrapped around himself and was biting back the screams. Slowly Thornton was pulling the pieces out of him

“Can’t you do that any faster?” Jack snapped

“If I do, he might bleed out!” Thornton snapped back at him

“This is all terribly touching. But all three of you are coming with me” Webber cut in

“Now look Matty..”

“Now nothing, Jack. Mac is now a CIA asset, he’s coming with us. He belongs to us”

“No he doesn’t Webber” Thornton growled still not taking her eyes from MacGyver

“It’s been a while Thornton, brutally murdered anyone lately?”

“Nothing compared with what the CIA has been up to I’m sure.”

“That’s it. I haven’t got tired for any of this crap. He’s coming with us.”

Webber gestured to the men around her, all armed with silver spikes and chains. They made to move towards Mac. But his body started to glow, his veins on his arms shimmered a sparkling gold, Thornton backed off from him, moving around to push Dalton away. Mac put his hands onto the glass softly

“No I don’t think I’m going anywhere with you.” Mac murmured quietly

“Now look. Mr MacGyver”

“I’m not going anyway with anyone.” Mac responded more loudly

Then he opened his eyes, they were terrifying, they weren’t blue or sparkling. They were a luminous white, he raised his hands that had started to burn. The spluttering flames that had emerged only a few minutes before were now manifesting all over his wrists higher and higher. Webber moved away from him flanked by her soldiers

“You think…you can take me. You can just…”

Dalton at this point tried to intervene..

“Mac…stop…kid…don’t do it”

Thornton dragged Dalton back at this stage again. She knew what was coming and had no desire to get caught in it. Mac heard none of Jack’s pleas, instead he looked from left to right blinking rapidly. Then he became a blur of bloodied violent motion. The men around him attacked back in earnest as Mac cut a violent path of slit throats and broken limbs. Patti and Jack did of course get caught in the crossfire, bullets came at them from all sides as well the apartment breaking up. Thornton showed the strength of her own power taking out of many of the men outside waiting on the ground floor below. Dalton fought back kicking, punching and disarming. He made for the kitchen clearing a path while Patti took on the men who came at her on the balcony. Jack had no real interest in blood bath, but as he took a bullet scrape to his arm and a bullet through his knee his mood changed and the next man who came at him took a shot to the stomach, the next the heart and then someone else in the back.

The apartment surged with violence and power. Many of the other residents in the block heard or felt what was happening, the chaos started to spread and men and women and children started to run out screaming and crying. But more and more men kept coming into the tiny space, Mac continued to fight, his eyes now a dark navy, every part the hunter he had been taught to be. At one point he realised his blood was glowing, sparking even, ready to blow. He took in the mess around him seeing that Thornton and Jack were at a relatively safe distance, he smiled and slammed his hand into the wall with enough force to create an explosion. MacGyver blew out the wall and stone started to come down around them. The man guards, soldiers and other military that Webber had gathered all got a taste of the explosion.

So the fight continued on, Mac leaving a horrible trail of chaos and destruction in his wake. Still even in all that rage and blood, he killed none of the families, none of the ordinary people living around Jack. It was all the soldiers, all on the men who so intent on taking him away and Mac might have made it. Had it not been for his relatively knew found humanity, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack bloodied and limping move in for an attack. But the soldier he was fighting was younger and faster (and frankly hadn’t been having the tough day Jack had been having). He managed to slam Jack in the chest and knock him out. MacGyver tried to move towards Dalton to check if he was alive, but he wasn’t faster enough. Webber who had largely kept out fighting (up to this point) took aim as Mac moved across the broken rooms, she like Jack had always been a great shot and didn’t miss.

A silver bullet raced through the air. Mac registered the change in the pressure and pivoted to move out of the way, but it was too late. As the bullet pierced his clothes and made contact with his skin, it seemed to expand growing spider like legs burying themselves in Mac’s chest. The kid fell to the floor clawing at this monstrosity taking over the top of his body swearing and yelling. The few remaining soldiers took advantage and grabbed at his hands slamming a set of spiked metal cuffs onto his wrists and his feet. Mac was in one respect very much his father’s son, he continued to fight until blood loss and pain levels made him pass out. The last thing he saw before the blackness overwhelmed him was a soldier taking a knife to Patricia Thornton’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of scary Matty? and Patti as a potential protector and ally. The visuals of the magic?? The action, too fast?? Too slow???


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the chaos of the CIA attack Mac wakes up with an intubation tube in his mouth on an operating table 
> 
> (Originally written as part of whumptober, I've expanded and adapted it into the below)
> 
> Feedback welcome

Mac was woken up by the experience of nearly choking, he felt a long piece of plastic forced down his throat and a kind of mask covering the lower part of his face. He tried to move his hands to pull the device off his face and out of his body, but couldn’t. His fangs came out in protest and he tried to bite down on the plastic in an effort get rid of it. He felt a sliver of liquid silver enter his mouth and he started to choke again. His whole body shook as the sparkling substance entered his blood stream. Although Mac had never experienced it so directly, he realised what it was; pure liquid silver going directly into his body. He had no idea how long he could even survive with that substance being pumped inside him.

He turned his body back and forth fighting hard against what he realised were medical restraints on a bed, but he could feel that they were lined with silver too, the silver was sewn into the thread of the leather padding. Every little movement produced a burning feeling across Mac’s wrists and hands. But that didn’t stop him, he pushed and pulled with all his strength and he felt one of his wrists snap for his pains. His eyes travelled down to the rest of him, he couldn’t see very much, the plastic tubing was directly in his field of vision. He could just about make out a darkened room and hospital lights and what he presumed were doctors or scientists all waiting in a corner. What he also registered were the restraints on the rest of him. They were across his ankles and legs as well as his wrists. He could even feel a heavy strap across his chest, he had a hospital gown on so it didn’t quite cut into his skin in the same way, but the strain of the silver was still there forcing him into place. His legs hurt, they throbbed in fact, the injuries from the bomb had clearly not healed and that thing…that monstrosity that had exploded onto his chest. Mac could feel the spikes pushing into the muscles around his heart and the device clamping down and digging deep into his flesh.

His mind went back to the chaos of the apartment block; Jack and Thornton – were they alive? They would both be hurt. Could Thornton have survived that knife to the gut? What had happened to them? Who was the woman? She was CIA, but not with Dalton clearly. She made him think of his father. Her way of talking, her arrogance, she perceived him as something to be used, to be controlled. She was the one who had shot him. That woman…whoever she was would pay for this, she would pay for all of it. Two doctors came forward from Mac’s left and laid their hands on him, forcing him to be still. Mac registered a set of hands hold his shoulders in place, he couldn’t really see a face at all, they all wore masks. Perhaps they were scared of him? Then he felt the strap around his neck being put into place. Mac let out an involuntary muffled scream as the silver threading made contact. He started to jerk again more violently, but then stopped. He realised that if he moved too much the silver against his neck could kill him. His father had always him warned about this scenario. The monsters of the government, what they would do to him, what they did to all their kind, ripped them apart and put them in jars. He should never have listened to his Jack, should never have trusted him. Dalton’s choice to try and help Mac had only brought him more pain and may have cost Thornton and Jack their lives. The agony of life with his father was at least familiar. Mac had known how to survive in it and it was only him, he had no one to protect, no one to risk. Now he was stuck in a new world of unknowns and pain and his only ‘friends’ or allies could be dead all because they had decided to back Mac rather than protect themselves.

If his father had been there, he would have told ‘Angus’ that it was his own fault and he deserved to be here, in this new agony. That Jack and Thornton’s fates were all on him.

“Subject is ready?”

“Then let’s begin”

Two more masked bodies came forward, one of them carried a needle containing clear liquid, he injected directly into the flesh of MacGyver’s arm (no IV needed for animal like him). A muffled groan escaped Mac’s mouth; a burning sensation went through his arm.

“Fascinating, traditional methods do not appear to affect subject.”

“Let’s continue on.”

Next one of the two doctors pulled out a long silver knife and a set of scissors. One cut open the hospital gown, the medical lights showed Mac’s white skin, a deathly pallor. Then the other doctor sliced open his stomach, three long deliberate cuts of different lengths. Mac tried to yell, but only a strangled noise came out of his mouth. Then the doctors paused and put the knife down and walked away from him talking quietly with each other. Mac desperately tried to get his breathing, his mind under control and think his way out, the knife wasn’t so far away. Maybe if he could stretch out of his hand just far enough. If he could get one of the doctors to look at him, look at him square in the eye, he might be able to do something, but he’d registered they were all steadfastly avoiding him, that must have been what the masks were for. Jack must have told them about…about his eyes or someone else? No Jack…he wouldn’t betray him, not after everything he went through to get to Mac, would he? Who could have betrayed him? Was it Bozer? No he wouldn’t sell him out??? God who else could have done it?? Couldn’t all vampires influence people in some way or another? Had Jack given up?? Maybe he had, had they tortured Jack like there were doing to him and….Dalton had or maybe Thornton? Too many questions to answer, now he had to focus on staying alive. The doctors soon returned and stared at his stomach.

“The subject healed so quickly, it must have limited regeneration, even after days of starvation.”

“Let’s find out how limited, remove a finger from his left hand.”

Mac balled up his fists and started to pull and fidget again, but the doctors simply brought out a silver hammer and slammed it into his already weakened left hand. He felt the bones in his palm crack and the doctors pulling at his fingers. They made a choice, once again using a silver knife. He cried out as he felt the silver go through the flesh of his finger and make contact with the bone. When they finally removed it he was left with was a bloodied stump, it did not grow back. They left it there, letting the blood stream out onto the bed sheets and drip into a vial they had placed below. The doctors looked down at him disappointed.

“Subject’s regeneration is limited. However, blood sample will be valuable for further research.”

The doctor held up the now full vial in the harsh artificial light, it had lost its glow, it had gone a deep brown red, more human than demon.

“Subject’s DNA is a mixture of multiple species, therefore limited knowledge of weaknesses. Second test to determine whether subject has inherited demonic vulnerability to sunlight.”

Mac’s eyes looked around in panic, there weren’t any open windows, but he didn’t even really know what time of day it was, where would they get sunlight from? The doctors moved to open up the hospital gown exposing his top half.

“Everyone please back away.”

The various medical professionals backed up bar one, who stood, placing his fingers on one of Mac’s shoulders to stop him moving. Another of them moved behind Mac and pulled back a section of curtain, the windows had largely been covered, bar one small hole. Sunlight shot through and landed on Mac’s shoulder, sharpened like the sight of a gun. Mac’s shoulder began to burn, he tried to move again, but that simply shifted the trajectory so the burning spread over his shoulder.

“Increase the size!”

The hole in the window increased and more light was let through. Mac slammed his head back on the bed, he found himself biting down the tube in his mouth to try and cope with the pain, but that of course let more silver liquid in, so he gasped and twitched all over again. This new test eventually stopped and Mac sighed with relief.

“Let him up, the subject needs to be rested. More research tomorrow.”

The restraints came off and suddenly for a few seconds Mac was free. He attacked with fury, slicing into as many men as he could, cracking and smashing at their bones, even weakened from sunlight and a destroyed hand, he still went for them all he had. His father might have been proud of the rage he displayed in that moment, his blue eyes went a deep, dark navy, almost black. It was a different kind of strength than what he had displayed back at the apartment block, this was fuelled by something much darker and poisonous, something he understood. He came close to being free, but then he felt the chains round his neck and the silver spider buried in his heart. One of the nurses had had enough strength to grab a set of silver chains they kept handy for just this sort of thing (well not quite but certainly something similar). He put his hands around them, but they burned his flesh. He half screamed, half roared as he tried to pull them off himself, he felt his fingers scorching further, blood started to run from his hand, the nurse behind pulled it tighter and Mac began to rasp. He heard chanting coming from behind him and the spider seemed to move, it’s legs pushing deeper and deeper in him. His vision started to blacken around the edges, more chains came out, they were wrapped around his hands and his ankles and suddenly he was falling, he crashed onto the floor and he was out.

Mac woke up a few hours later on a different bed in a fresh gown with both his hands bandaged. He had a mattress and a pillow (they were so kind these scientists that were torturing him). Those same silver chains that had nearly choked him were wrapped around wrists and ankles and his stomach. He could feel the spider attached to his chest, although thankfully it was no longer moving. It was just sat there, sapping his strength. If Mac tried to moved too much the claws vibrated and burrowed. He was amazed that it hadn’t gone through and come out his back. His neck was no longer restrained, so he could just about move his head around and see the machines around him humming away and three different tubes attached to his right arm.

He was tied up like an animal to be tested and prodded. It was a twisted and more scientific version of what his father had done to him not so long ago. Maybe that was really all he was fit for, to be used and….then dumped. Not a human, not a witch, not a vampire; simply an experiment, something to be understood and torn open. Clearly that was world perceived him as other than perhaps Jack and Thornton. He had to escape and find out what had happened to them and kill her; that woman, whoever she was. He would kill the woman who had shot and placed him in this new hell. Another medical person approached him slowly and came up and wrote, although he noticed they kept their distance from him. Mac smiled, his still navy eyes took in the grey ceiling above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to convey Mac's confused state of mind here as well as the rage. Is it believable ? I mean am I stepping to far away from the essence of the original character ?? (vampires aside)
> 
> I also know Mac's not done much MacGyvering at this stage, but that is coming soon.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Matty finally meet

Matty Webber was having a bad day. By rights she should have been in a good mood. She had James MacGyver’s heir, a miscreant operative and a traitorous witch all in chains. But she was not happy. The capturing of Angus MacGyver had made her feel…ashamed, even slightly dirty. She tried to console herself that she was doing the right thing. Angus MacGyver was dangerous and needed to be contained. In that respect, she was glad he was behind bars. However she was still uneasy, all the surveillance that had been done on the boy initially had suggested he wasn’t a threat and the very fact that Dalton was apparently willing to go rogue and back him had made her wonder. It had been a nightmarish decision to make; go in herself and bring him in alive contained (that was where the sun dial device came in) or let someone else do it and potentially kill him.

Webber was a practical woman and had never been afraid of making hard choices, but this one bothered her in ways that she didn’t want to admit. Matty knew in her heart of hearts that it was her connection to James MacGyver that was part of the problem. Webber should have played hardball all those years ago and taken out James. She’d seen the signs, but had chosen to ignore them because she had liked him. James at one stage had been an ally, someone she turned to, even respected and then he went mad. Sometimes Matty wondered if the madness had always been there. Now twenty something years too late as a means of assuaging her guilt she was visiting the punishment that was meant for James on his son. She pushed such thoughts out of her head, doubting herself at this point would not help the interrogation.

She walked down the stairs from her office, through multiple corridors and her dark thoughts did not lift. She headed down towards the medical facilities of the CIA readying herself to interrogate the prisoner; Angus. If she could get something useful intel out of him, then maybe she could keep him alive, maybe she didn’t…really know. Dalton’s crack about killing kids stuck in her head too, she was not a murderer of innocents. She was a soldier like Jack and she was doing her job. But Angus was a kid, well a young adult. But he was still at least potentially a relative innocent, yet he’d done a whole series of horrific things as well, what a mess. She carried multiple documents with her detailing his crimes and his father’s. What they really wanted was information on the bomb, their intel, well street rumour in LA has suggested that James had been planning something big. Angus was the only way they could even get close. That feeling of shame did not leave Matty, using kids as bait. She hated herself for it.

The medical facilities were generally fairly empty unless a mission had gone very wrong. Although they had managed to capture Angus, he’d hurt so many people in the process the beds of the bay were packed, filled with a dozen or so soldiers nursing broken legs, gashes in arms or stomachs. She’d sacrificed a lot of people to get Angus, Matty prayed it had been worth it. She came set to of locked rooms at the far end, they were used for the most severely hurt or anyone who might have anything that was contagious. She had been briefed on Angus’s “tantrum” and that he had been restrained for the safety all those around him as well as himself.

She came to the door and gripped the handle. Matty hesitated for only a moment and then went inside. She carefully shut the door behind her. The room had been lined with silver in preparation for Angus’s arrival, other than that it was grey, a series of dull grey boxes all put together. At the centre lay, what was supposed to have been a bed, but with all the sheets and the mattress gone it was just a grey table with a boy chained to it. They had tied him up like animal and Webber was disgusted with the organisation she so cherished. But on one level…it’s not that it was right…it was more that Angus was frightening. He looked like some damaged boy but also a violent creature, it was some poisonous combo of the two.

He was lying on his back, Matty looked at him from side on. He twisted this way and that in the silver chains, each time he did she could see the raw, bloodied lines in his wrists. The reset of his skin was almost as grey as the room he was in. There was a heavy bandage over one of his hands that was crimson soaked and needed changing. His hair should’ve have been blonde, but now it had taken on muddied yellow look. The sun dial must still be buried in his chest, although the medical scrubs hid it. The only hint it was even there was a slight bump where his heart should be. Matty presumed that he still wore the blue stone she’d given to Jack to present to him, she could even just see the string under the scrubs. His eyes were a dark blue, like water at dusk. Angus blinked rapidly and then his eyes registered her on one side of him. He didn’t move or attack her (partly because he was so restrained, it might kill him). He simply gawped at her and tilted his head as if fascinated.

_“Hello Angus, my name is Matty. I would like to talk to you.”_

**

Mac stared at this small woman who had caused him so much pain. Without the men, the weapons, she seemed less fearsome, more ordinary. She was calm, every part of her radiated a steady mind and body. He listened and her heartbeat was regular as clockwork and she wasn’t sweating or twitching in anyway. He had to compliment her on that, most people tended to be terrified of him, but then he’d be tied down and butchered like animal. Maybe that was where her composure came from. Mac had had hours to think about this moment and had decided “not attacking her” was the best option (tempting as it was). He knew they would want something from him (besides body parts) so he might as well see what it was. If they hadn’t, Mac was certain he would have been dead already. She stood next to the table and looked down at him

_“You’re a brave woman Matty, I don’t know many people who would stand next to a hungry demon without a weapon.”_

_“Is that how you see yourself then as a demon?”_

_“Isn’t that how you see me? Isn’t that why I’m chained up like this.”_

Mac raised his hands and flinched at the silver.

_“What do you want from me?”_

_“To speak with you.”_

_“I’m listening although I do find I speak much better to people, including psychotic government stooges who capture me and torture when I can look them in the eye.”_

_“Angus, I’m sorry about the manner in which we brought you in, but it was necessary. You wouldn’t have met with us voluntarily.”_

_“Now I guess we’ll never know”_

_“You’ve been restrained to stop you damaging yourself and others.”_

_“Damaging myself, I had no idea I was such a valuable commodity”_

_“Angus, we do need your help, you hurt a lot of people when you came in and when you lost your temper”_

_“Lost my temper? That’s what you think that was? Well I don’t respond well to people who try and rip me apart.”_

_“We’re were protecting ourselves and you”_

_“Mmmmh”_

Matty’s eyes flickered down to the bloodied bandage

_“I’ll make sure the bandage is changed, that should have taken care of.”_

_“If you could ask the doctors to give me my finger back as well that’d be nice.”_

Mentioning the damage to his hand had been a gamble on Mac’s part. He wanted to see if he could disrupt Matty’s calmness, her heartbeat shot up for a moment, but her face portrayed no sign of reaction. Instead, he felt the table he was restrained against slowly lurching upwards although not too far. He gritted his teeth as he felt the sun dial digging into his chest still. However he could now at least see Matty properly. She didn’t move back, she continued to look at him

_“Let’s try this again Mac, I want to protect you and I think we can help each other.”_

_“Why? And from what?_ _You’ve certainly got an interesting way of showing it. Why would you help me?”_

_“Because your father is the target of the CIA not you”_ (Matty was bending the truth a little here, Mac was a target for the CIA. But she had no interest in him, once James was gone, his son could disappear into the night for all she cared)

_“What do you want from me?”_

_“To talk”_

_“That’s all? Talk?”_

_“Why else would you be here?”_

_“What do you want to know?”_

_“About your father, as I just said he’s the target. His latest scheme is going to hurt a lot of people”_

Matty registered the boy’s careful and measured blankness in response to the reference to James

_“We want to know about your father’s plans.”_

_“He didn’t share things with me.”_

_“Really? His only heir, he didn’t tell you anything?”_

Mac snorted, clearly this woman had never met his father

_“You overestimate my father’s interest in me.”_

_“I very much doubt that, you’re his only connection to Ellen.”_

Mac glared at Matty. His eyes flickering back and forth between pale blue and back to navy black

_“I knew her you know, a long time ago before you were born. She was a wonderful woman.”_

_“I don’t remember anything about her.”_

_“She wouldn’t want this for you, she wouldn’t want ­you to be part of your father’s schemes.”_

Mac’s eyes returned to the ceiling. He had to keep calm and give nothing away. He knew the mention of his mother was to bait him, much in the way Jack did. Although with Dalton it seemed more genuine, more real. With this woman, she was too cold, too obviously calculating. He felt as though he was being weighed and measured. The truth was he knew a little bit about his father’s plans and that was a generous description. He knew his father was going to plant some kind of device of his own creation somewhere in LA and “cleanse” the city and Mac was apparently a terribly important part of that. But he knew no details about when/where or even what precisely.

_“You’re father needs to be stopped. He’s dangerous, he’s going to hurt a lot of people.”_

At this Mac began to laugh, he was almost slightly hysterical. Tired and hungry, his whole boy felt like it was on fire. The bruises and the burns seemed to be reaching into every part of him.

_“What is that I’ve said that’s so funny Angus? Does the idea of killing people amuse you?”_

He continued to laugh, tears even dripped down his blood stained face, eventually he stopped.

_“Just the idea of you lecturing me on killing…my father’s the monster of course….but from you…”_

Mac started to laugh again. Matty eyeballed him waiting for the hysterics to subside

_“I am not like your father. I want to protect the world, to help people.”_

_“Only a select few…. You apparently get to decide who gets to be safe who gets…sacrificed or used”_

Mac flexed his bandaged up hand, still painfully aware of his one missing finger

_“I want to protect all people, all the races.”_

Mac snorted

_“You know there are rumours about the CIA, what they used to do to supernaturals”_

_“There are stories about your father’s institute too”_

_“How used to cut us open and prod us, all the name of science because…we were somehow lesser, somehow dangerous. My father always warned me about you and your kind, I never really believed them until now.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The CIA is a government organisation, not so much shadowy corrupt hole out of poorly written fairy tale.”_

_“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”_

_“Your father has murdered people and so have you.”_

Mac snorted

_“The firebird bombings in Russia, terror attacks in Malaysia as well as murders in Boston and New York City.”_

_“What about the CIA? Has the CIA never killed anyone? Haven’t they murdered people taken out whole hosts of people all in the name of…what’s that phrase freedom and the American way of life? There was a bombing in Hawaii that was supposedly the government’s fault, all the witch deaths in Salem another little addition as well. Those covens didn’t all blow up on their own.”_

The boy’s arrogance was starting to try Matty’s patience, the tone was powerfully reminiscent of his father. His apparent knowledge of the CIA was too confident, too sure. It had to be a bluff surely? She took a deep breath and tried a different tact

_“Whatever you might think of the CIA, Angus. We can work together. Your father is a common enemy between us.”_

_“The one you sent after me initially was much better at selling this act than you.”_

_“You mean Agent Dalton?”_

_“Yes, he could spin the care and compassion line with much more panache”_

_“Agent Dalton has a way with words.”_

_“So he works for the CIA then?”_

So he’s interested in Jack then, clearly Dalton managed to get through to him somehow.

_“He works for me.”_

_“You hired him to kill me”_

_“Yes I did. But only as a last resort, we were more interested in working with you.”_

_“What happened to, I’ve killed people and…deserve to be punished.”_

_“I never said you deserved to be punished. Yes you have killed people, but you’re still young, you have an opportunity to re-set your life, to change it. “_

Mac began to laugh again.

_“Yeah, Jack could sell this line much better than you.”_

Matty continued to look Angus, echoing his “I’m terribly fascinated by you” expression from earlier

_“Alright Angus, I’m willing to play ball. What do you want?”_

_“Why should I trust you?”_

_“You’ve got no other option.”_

_“I want out of these restraints and this room.”_

_“That can be arranged.”_

_“I want out now.”_

Matty bent down and pressed a button beneath the table that kept the silver in place. Mac felt the chains drop and clatter to the floor. His hands shook as the burning metal glided across his skin. But he was up almost immediately, massaging what remained of his fingers. Matty took a few steps towards the door. She didn’t call for back up, she waited to see what he would do.

Mac raised himself up slowly and fixed his eyes on her. He felt like was going to collapse, but he would not show weakness, not in front of her. He was so hungry, he could hear the blood in her veins pumping, he wanted it so badly. He could just drain her and then he could escape this place, she was a worth adversary. She was an animal, a predator like him and he would take pleasure in taking her life. But Mac’s rational mind just about overruled his hunger at this stage, Matty whoever she was, was of more value to him alive. She was a route out of here, a hostage too. If he kept her alive he was less likely to get a silver spike through his chest and more importantly she could potentially lead him to Jack and Thornton.

The world slowed down as he stood on his feet and moved towards her; they grey lines of the room became a blur as he shot towards her. He would have had her neck in his hand, but then he felt the stabbing pain in his chest. The sun device moved, it’s rays or claws twitched in his flesh and he was on his knees tearing at his chest to try and get it out. His hands came away even more bloody as he knelt at Matty’s feet

_“I wanted to trust you Angus, truly I did. But you’ve just shown me my faith was mistaken. You’re just like your father.”_

Matty made to leave, but Mac despite the pain grabbed her wrist grasping it in his blood soaked hand

_“You call me a monster and accuse me of a whole cavalcade of sins. But you Matty, you’re not so different, you capture me, your scientists try and rip me to shreds and you come in here and demand things ?. What have you given me in return? You treat me like an animal and expect me to do what you ask? To do what’s right? You see me as some savage that needs fixing, that needs containing and then hope to appeal to my good nature? My mother’s nature??.”_

Webber tried to pull her wrist away from him, but couldn’t. She could feel the bones in her wrist breaking, he was crushing it slowly. She managed to get her other hand against the wall, she slammed it into one of the grey walls and a silent alarm sounded. Within 30 seconds guards came crashing through, they carried silver cattle prods. One dragged Mac away from her and pushed his head into the floor, the other slammed the cattle prod into his side multiple lines. To their horror, he started to laugh. One of them used the prod like a baseball bat and slammed it into his face. The laughing stopped and Mac spat blood out on the floor. Webber made to leave

_“I maybe a demon Matty, a monstrosity of the highest order, but at least I know what I am. You think you’re saving people, protecting them. You’re so obsessed with the idea of your own grace that you can’t see the blood on your hands.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so super keen for feedback here, does the dialogue work? 
> 
> I wanted to try and show how conflicted Matty is about Mac and show to the audience how she might see him
> 
> But also indicate that Mac is fully within in his rights to be furious at her. I also wanted to kind of show his predatory nature as well (without this conflicting too much with the earlier chapters) - is his personality swinging too wildly


End file.
